


Shattered

by Cate Shaw (Bluebell84)



Category: Tom Hardy - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Memory Loss, Rape, Secrets, Sex, affair, car crash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:52:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 44,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9352073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebell84/pseuds/Cate%20Shaw
Summary: Christine's life was completely shattered when a car accident left her with amnesia.  Now she has to rely on her husband, Jack, to help put all the broken pieces of her life back together.  But which pieces are real and which pieces are fabricated?  One of the pieces seems to be a handsome stranger; a man she feels pulled to.  Can she trust Jack?  It seems he's holding back a few secrets, but Christine learns she has some secrets of her own, too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will start with either "Now" indicating the present, or "Then" indicating the past.
> 
> I will do my best to post trigger warnings in future chapters as they come.

NOW

 

Someone bumped into my bed, startling me.  I hadn't even realized I was sleeping until I opened my eyes, slowly.  Instantly, a panic rose in my chest and at first, I wasn't exactly sure why.  My vision was slightly blurry and all the blinking in the world didn't make it clear up any faster.  I squinted to focus better.  Lifting my hand, I tried to rub my eyes but something prevented me from doing so.  Looking down at my arms, I noticed tubes sticking out of the back of my hands.  My initial panic was beginning to make sense.

 

I had no idea where the hell I was.  I cried out, or at least I thought I did, and sat up.  My heart was thumping so hard, I could hear the blood rushing through my veins.  I continued to squint, trying to figure out what was going on.  A dark figure stood at the end of the bed, facing away.  Without a second thought, I began to tug at the tubes.  The tape holding them down ripped at the delicate hairs on my skin.  

Finally, the figure in front of me spun around and rushed to my side.  They placed their hands on my arm, calling behind them, out the door, for help.

Words stumbled out of my mouth.  I could feel my mouth moving but I don't think the words were forming correctly.  Two more dark figures ran into the room.  One of them stuck me with something, causing me to whip the back of my hand toward them, hitting them in the face.  The first figure grabbed my arm and held it down while the other second figure held down the other.  I cried, terrified beyond belief.  

I didn't realize a high pitched squealing was deafening me until it began to fade out.  The first figure was speaking but it was hard to understand.  Their hold on my arm softened as I struggled to hear.

Trying to focus my eyes on them, I could tell he was male.  He ran his fingers through my hair, trying to comfort me.  

"Chrissy... Christine, it's going to be okay.  I'm here, you're going to be alright..."

Christine?

I suddenly felt tired.  Like someone had hit the off switch to my body and my mind.  I lay back, gently, the man helping.  

He let go of my arm and turned to the table next to me.  He brought something toward my face and I sat completely still as he placed a pair of glasses over my nose and ears.  My eyes adjusted quickly and I could see he was handsome with largely unique dimples down the sides of his cheeks.  He gave a tiny smile and grasped my hand.  

My eyelids felt so heavy.  I tried so hard to keep them open.  I didn't want to fall asleep.  Wasn't I just asleep?  I whimpered and the man shushed me, squeezing my hand.

"You're going to be okay.  You just need to sleep and calm down a little.  Rest and then we'll talk.  I love you, Chrissy."

He kissed my cheek and my eyes closed.  My thoughts turned off completely and I fell to sleep.

•••

 

He was still holding my hand once I woke up.  This time, I remained calm.  It definitely helped that I could see clearly.  I pushed the glasses further up the bridge of my nose.  Taking in the room, I noticed every surface was covered with flowers.  The scents finally hit me hard and I felt a bit nauseous.  The man pressed a button on my bed before he spoke.

"How are you feeling?  God, I thought I'd lost you for good. "

I started to speak but my throat was scratchy.  He grabbed a glass of water next to us on the table and handed it to me.  I sipped through the straw and cleared my throat, swallowing back the nausea.

"Where am I?" My voice was soft.

He put the water back on the table.  "We're at Saint John's, sweetie.  You had an accident."

Why is he calling me sweetie and why does he keep touching me?

"Who are you?"

His mouth opened, unsure of how to answer.  His eyes looked so sad.  I felt like I had offended him and I felt guilty.

"Chrissy, I'm your husband, Jack."

My brows furrowed and I realized my back ached terribly.  Shifting my weight, everything hurt.  I only just then noticed the bandages wrapped around my upper arm and shoulder.  My legs were covered with blankets but I could tell they weren't in the best shape either.

"Sorry, husband?  I don't -- I can't..."  I was at a loss for words.

A woman in light blue scrubs entered the room with a cart.  "Hi!"  She was far too chipper for me.  "I paged Dr. Dameron and he will be here in just a moment.  I'm going to go ahead and take your vitals, alright?"

Jack let go of my hand and gave her some room.  He stood and pulled his chair away from my bed.  The nurse wrapped a cuff around the un-wounded arm and pressed a button on the machine next to the bed.  Slowly the cuff began to squeeze and my breathing grew faster.  

"Just relax, sweetheart.  It's not going to hurt you."

I didn't believe her, especially since the cuff seemed to never stop squeezing.  I was convinced it was going to cut through my arm when it finally stopped as the machine beeped.  Once the cuff relaxed, I swallowed hard.

I glanced at Jack who had never taken his eyes off of me.  His expression was soft but full of concern.

"I'm-- I'm sorry," I turned to the nurse, "but I'm going to throw up."

She turned and grabbed a small bucket from underneath her cart and handed it to me, raising my bed so I didn't have to sit up on my own.  I hated that Jack was staring at me.  It was embarrassing.  I retched and the water I had just swallowed came back up.  

"I'll go get you something to settle your stomach."  The nurse left the room and I sat there, holding the small bucket under my chin.

Jack carefully took the bucket away and handed me a tissue.  I wiped my mouth and thanked him.  

A tall man with dark, slicked back hair came in.  He wore a white coat with "Dr. Dameron, MD" embroidered on his breast pocket. 

He greeted us, shaking Jack's hand.  I found it strange how he addressed Jack by his first name.  He looked me over, using a tiny pen light to look into my eyes, asking me to follow the movement of his finger.  

I was getting tired but I wanted answers.  "What happened to me?"  Dr. Dameron glanced at Jack.

"We were waiting for you," he offered as explanation.

The doctor nodded as the nurse came back in and placed a needle into the IV attached to the back of my hand.  Once she gathered her things and rolled her cart out of the room, Dr. Dameron closed the door behind her.

"Christine, you were in a car accident and suffered some extensive injuries, including a concussion."  He went on to explain how I had slipped into a coma for nine days.  "Do you recall anything about your accident, Christine?"

I closed my eyes, trying my best to remember, coming up blank.  "Not a thing.  Nothing."

I listened intently as I was told it was storming that night and I must have lost control of the car, flipping several times off a slick bridge and colliding into a tree.  Thankfully no one else was hurt.

"Pete, she asked me who I was," Jack explained, still looking at me.

"Christine, do you know what year it is?"  Dr. Dameron asked.

My lips immediately tried to form words but I couldn't get my brain to cooperate.  I bit my lower lip in frustration, tears forming.  "What's happening to me?"

Jack stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder, kneeling down beside me.

"You may have some memory loss.  Until we do some more tests, we won't know how serious it is.  Let me schedule you for some scans and we'll take a look.  There's a chance your memory will come back over time.  I wouldn't worry too much."  He gave me a sympathetic pat on the foot.

He and Jack continued to discuss scans, therapy, and other treatments and I began to drown them out.  My eyes glazed over and my mouth became dry.

I had no idea who I was.  This was more than just a loss of memory.  It was a loss of total identity.  Everything about who I was had died in the accident.

"Hey," Jack said softly, brushing away a stray tear off my cheek.  Dr. Dameron was gone.  He took my hand and softly kissed my knuckles.  His eyes teared up.  "I'm so grateful you're alive, Chrissy.  You can't leave me, you can't.  I'm nothing without you."

He squeezed my hand harder, his voice cracking.

"You'll never know how it feels to think the worst, Chrissy... You'll never know..."

I really wanted him to stop.  Stop talking.  Stop crying.  Please just leave me alone.


	2. Chapter 2

NOW

 

It's not easy trying to fall into a daily routine when you've no idea what was the norm before.  Jack's been great with me, making sure I take my meds and stay ahead of the pain.  My shoulder and ribs are healing quite well.  The incision in my stomach from internal bleeding sometimes itches and serves as a constant reminder of recent events.  You know, other than feeling like a complete stranger in another stranger's home.

Jack's already left for work, as he does by 9 am every day.  Except for on the weekends.  The past few weekends we've gone to brunch and the farmer's market, as he's said it was what I always loved doing with him.  He's trying to get me back into the swing of things.  It's strange seeing food, like pancakes with raspberries and desiring them, knowing what they taste like, but seeing this man, my husband, and feeling nothing but confusion.

Since the accident, I've been staring at the photos on the wall in the hallway.  Trying to recollect the emotions, the stories behind each captured moment.  Even now, gazing at the little gallery on the wall, I felt stuck.  The center photo is a wedding picture of Jack and I.  We look blissfully happy, staring into each other's eyes with his arm around me, holding me close.  Jack looks devilishly handsome in his tux, I observed.  I smiled at the picture, wishing I could feel something toward Jack, just knowing that he's my husband and we're in love.  I don't want to have to start over.

I had to asked Jack what I usually did throughout the day.  I apparently was a wonderful house wife, keeping our home pristine and having dinner ready by the time he came home.  I dusted and vacuumed and folded some laundry.  By noon, my head was killing me so I took a nap hoping the pain would disappear by the time I needed to cook dinner.  When my eyes finally opened again, I peered at the clock on the tall dresser and quickly sat up realizing Jack would be home in half an hour.  My head still hurt and even with the meds, I couldn't shake the pain.  So spaghetti it was again.  For the third night in a row.  He didn't complain last night and I hoped he wouldn't tonight, either.

As I strained the noodles, I heard the garage door go up.  My heart began to race and I couldn't explain why.  Perhaps because I was still getting to know Jack.  Perhaps because I found him attractive and desperately wanted to impress him and knew fixing spaghetti once again probably wasn't the best decision.

He walked in with his messenger bag across his shoulders and smiled when he saw me.  Glancing at the stove, his smile disappeared.  I swallowed hard, embarrassed.

"Sorry.  I've had a headache today and napped too long to make anything else."  It was the truth.

Jack shook his head and dropped his bag to the floor, stepping toward me, taking me in his arms.  He wrapped them around me and caressed my back.

"How about we go out tonight instead."  The words were a question, but the tone was not.  He pressed his nose to my hair, sniffing it.  I found it endearing and leaned against his firm chest.  He stilled, taken aback by my subtle affection.  Until now, he was the only one who made any attempts at romance.  But having him home, someone somewhat familiar, letting me know that I'm loved, and the way his smile makes me feel, I felt a relief.  I felt obligated to toss him a bone.

I nodded, grateful for the idea.  Grateful that I haven't disappointed him.

 

•••

 

We sat at a small table in the back of a dimly lit Mexican restaurant called Pablo's.  I had placed my hair into a ponytail and wore a cute sleeveless blouse that was hanging in the closet.

After perusing the menu several times, I settled on the carnitas.

"You'd always order them.  I could never get you to try something different," he smiled, remembering fondly.

Reaching across the table, he took my hand in his and swept his thumb over my knuckles.  I was getting used to him doing it every day.  

"How's your head doing?"

I'd been watching the tiny flame of the candle between us flicker.  I looked up, meeting his gaze.  "It's better, thank you."

"Any progress today?"

A waiter stopped to refill our water glasses.  I waited until he finished before answering.  Jack kept his eyes on me, waiting.

I shrugged and slowly pulled away from his hand, so as not to hurt his feelings.  "No, nothing new.  Everything's the same as it was yesterday.  And the day before.  And so on.  The photos in the hall, have they always been there?"

Jack's eyes lit up.  "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know.  Something just feels off.  Like every time I see them, they feel... unnatural?"  I wave my hand, dismissing it.  "I don't know."

"No, Christine, you're right.  They weren't always there."

"No?"  My eyes widened in excitement.  This was new, this experience.  Not exactly a memory, but I'll take it.

"You've wanted some sort of photo display on that wall for years.  I always promised to get around to helping you with it but I never did."  Jack looked down at his water glass and studied it before taking a small sip.  

"I don't know," he continued, "I felt like it was something I needed to do after your accident.  I figured it couldn't hurt.  Part of it was out of guilt for being a crap husband and part of it was in hopes it'd help your memories resurface."

"You're not-" the waiter returned, interrupting me.

"I apologize, sir, but we've run out of steak.  Is there anything else we could offer you instead?"  The waiter looked like he couldn't care less.

Jack furrowed his brow and cocked his head.  "What?  Out of steak?"

"Yeah, we got really busy and I guess we didn't order enough to prepare for the rush.  May I suggest the fish tacos?"

Jack scoffed.  "Sure.  Make it fish tacos instead, then."

The waiter nodded before hustling off to the kitchen.

"Out of steak," Jack scoffed again.  "It's fucking Friday night and they're out of steak?"

The table next to us glared at Jack, unappreciative of his choice of words.  

"Um, so I was saying, you're not a crap husband..."

Jack raised his eyebrows and we laughed with a sense of relief.

"Sorry, darling.  It's been a long day.  Things going wrong left and right, dealing with this," he motioned between us, "and now I can't have what I want for dinner.  I'm sorry."

"Already forgotten."

Once our food arrived, we ate in silence, simply enjoying each other's company.  

 

•••

 

Jack pulled into the garage and shut the engine off.  

"I've been meaning to ask," he turned toward me and slipped a loose strand of hair behind my ear, gently grazing my lobe with his knuckles.  "Our anniversary is coming up soon.  A week from now, in fact.  Ten years.  Can you believe it?"  His smile was so large, the dimples on either side looked eerily like scars.

"Wow, ten?  Really?"  I shook my head in disbelief, letting out a little chuckle.

"Right?  Pretty amazing.  I know things are kind of, well, odd right now.  But what do you think about a party?  To celebrate?  Not only our marriage, but you!  And I know all our friends would love to see you.  Grace has been texting me non-stop since your accident."

"Grace?"

"Gra- sorry.  Yeah, Grace, she's your closest friend.  I wasn't sure how to go about letting her come over just yet.  I didn't know how long it'd be before your memory came back.  But I guess there's no sense in keeping her away.  Seeing her again might even help."

"Yeah, maybe."

Jack playfully tugged my ponytail.  I locked eyes with him and something softened within him.  "I love you, Christine."

"Please, don't..." I bit my lip.  "I don't know what to say and it kills me, Jack."

Jack shushed me.  "I know.  Just know that I do.  I love you.  You're my girl."

He leaned in and brushed his lips across my bare shoulder.  The contact made me shudder.

"Is this okay?" He asked, his head rising back up, eyes meeting mine.  "May I kiss you?"

My mouth immediately went dry and my stomach felt full of knots.  This isn't some sleazy man at the bar, it's my husband for crying out loud.  I took in a deep breath and turned to face him straight on.

He took that as a sign and moved forward.  Our lips touched and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for a whirlwind of emotions but there were none.  It was simply a pair of lips touching mine.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Jack brought his hand to the back of my neck and pressed me into him more.  Perhaps he felt something, but I certainly did not.

Upon breaking from the kiss, he pressed his forehead to mine, nearly breathless.  "Wow."

I opened my eyes and saw his had teared up.  

"Jack," I whispered, bringing my hands to the sides of his face.  "Don't cry."

"I never do, Chrissy.  I swear, I don't.  I thought I lost you for good.  To be able to kiss you again, I'm just really ridiculously happy."

His sweet words made me smile.  I kissed him on the nose, which made him laugh and wipe his eyes.

"What do you say?" He asked as we finally stepped out of the car.

"Hmm?"

"About having a party."

I chewed my bottom lip.  "May I think about it?"

Jack walked around the car meeting me at the door.  He placed a kiss on the top of my head.  "Of course."

 

•••

 

I climbed in bed and quickly pulled the covers up to my neck.  Jack and I have been sharing the bed since day one.  While it was awkward at first, I've somewhat become used to it.  But I still wasn't completely comfortable.  I wore long pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt.  I washed them over and over instead of opting for a different pair.  Everything else was a bit too sexy.  Lacy, silky, or just overall tiny.

Jack came out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in his mouth, the tube of toothpaste in his hand.  Pulling the toothbrush from his mouth with his other hand, he said, "Not trying to be a jerk or anything, but can you squeeze from the bottom of the tube please?"

It takes a second for his question to sink it.  "Sure.  Sorry."

He stepped back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.  

I rolled over in bed, facing away from him, feeling sick to my stomach suddenly.  A minute later, I heard the bathroom door open again.  Jack shuffled around until he climbed into bed with me.  We kept our distance from each other.  I felt like we were making progress and then just took two steps back.  

Jack placed a hand on my shoulder.  "Hey, look at me, please?"

I looked back.  "I'm really tired," I told him.  

"I know.  I'm sorry if I snapped at you."

"No, you didn't.  It was just kind of weird.  You know me better than I know myself right now."  I turned back around completely, my entire body facing his.

Jack was shirtless, flannel pajama bottoms hugging his hips.  I wanted to touch his chest but I held back.

"It's hard remembering that I'm basically a stranger to you, babe.  I can't walk on eggshells around you, trying to protect your feelings.  I don't think that's the right thing to do, you know?"

I nodded.  He was right.  "No, I agree.  Please, don't treat me any differently than you have.  I want to remember.  I need to."  I swallowed hard.  I could feel myself start to tremble, emotions boiling to the surface.

Jack grasped me by the elbow, pulling me closer.  Chest to chest, he ran his hand through my hair.

"I want you to take your time, but... God, Chrissy, I need more.  I miss you."  He leaned in and I know I shouldn't stop him, but I'm not ready.  He knows I'm not ready.

I turned my face so his lips met my cheek.  "I just want to remember something first.  Anything."

Frustrated by my rejection, Jack backed away.  "Then at least try, would you?  You're just shut off all the time!  Something's gotta give."  He flipped to his back and groaned.

Looking back at me, his eyes softened a bit.  "Please, try.  Just, I don't know, close your eyes.  Think real hard.  There's gotta be something in there.  Anything."

I exhaled slowly.  My eyes teared up.  I didn't want to hurt him.  I wanted to be the wife he loved but I don't know how to be.  I closed my eyes, wiping away the tear that fell.  I concentrated, clearing away all thoughts.  All I could see was Jack.  He's all I know.  I tried to push him out of my mind.  I could hear him breathing next to me.  Slowly, all sounds dispersed and I saw white.  Just pure white.

No, not white.  Not exactly.  There's a yellowish tint to it.  I focused on the color.  There's a texture to it, I noticed.  I held my breath, desperate to make something out of this.  It's fur.  A yellowish fur.  Definitely an animal.  I could feel my heart beating faster.

I rolled onto my back and kept my eyes closed, covering my ears with my hands, focused.  It's a dog.  A big, cute and happy dog.  It barked and my eyes flew open.

I looked back at Jack who's staring at me so intently.

"Did we have a dog?  Before my accident?"

Jack's brows furrowed.  He shook his head.  "Nope.  I'm allergic to dogs, Chrissy."

"Oh."  I felt defeated.  "I tried, Jack.  I really did."

"I know.  Thanks.  I'm sorry for pressuring you."

He sounded so different.  So sad.  He turned off the bedside lamp and got comfortable, hugging himself, faced away from me.  I stared at his back, watching his shoulders rise and fall steadily.  

I placed a palm on his back, lovingly.  "Jack?" I whispered incase he had quickly fallen to sleep.

He grunted in reply.

"Let's have that party."

I needed him to be happy.  Plus, how bad could a little party be?  It couldn't hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

NOW

 

"I can't say it enough, Chrissy; Happy Anniversary."

Jack pulled into the driveway of his sister's house. I had to lean forward to be able to see the entire house out the windshield. The two story red brick colonial style house towered over us. I sat gawping as Jack came around and opened the passenger door for me.

I wasn't sure what to wear tonight, but Jack promised I looked like myself in the satin black halter dress I had hanging in the closet. I twisted my hair back and pinned it up as best as I could. Before we left, Jack surprised me with a pair of diamond earrings in what I knew was a Tiffany blue box. He stood behind me, admiring as I placed them on my ears.

Hand in hand, we stepped up to the front door but before Jack could knock, it opened.

"Oh my gosh, sweetheart! Come here!" A tall woman gathered me in her arms, smelling strongly of floral perfume.

"Trish, you have to reintroduce yourself, sis." Jack placed an arm around me once Trish let go.

"Duh. I'm so sorry." Trish shook my hand and laughed. 

I did recognize her from one of the photos in the hallway. Her eyes matched her brother's. Jack went over everyone in the photos, insisting they were important people in our lives. The handsome man next to Trish had to be her husband Rob. He didn't seem as outgoing as Trish, but there was a friendliness in his eyes. I shook his hand as well, and Trish invited us in.

Jack brought up the party idea to his sister over the phone and she loved it, begging for us to let her throw it in our honor at her place. To say I was nervous was an understatement. 

But Trish was sweet and kept cracking jokes. It was easy to like her. She'd give orders to Rob and he'd do exactly what she'd ask with a smile. They meshed well. Jack and I sat together at the kitchen table as Trish and Rob performed almost a routine dance in the kitchen, moving around one another to do the things they needed to do. 

As if sensing my admiration for their obvious compatibility, Jack took my hand across the table and stroked my knuckles with the pad of this thumb. I gave him a smile.

"Thank you, Trish, for doing this for us," Jack directed to his older sister.

"It's nothing! We're happy to do it! I've been waiting to get my hands on Chrissy again. Why have you been keeping her from us? Even Grace hasn't seen her yet. You're going to get an earful from her, Jackie. I promise you that." Trish glared at Jack, pointing a finger his way.

Rob finally contributed to the conversation. "Every single person we invited is coming. It's going to be crowded. I hope that won't be too difficult for you, Christine."

Jack answered for me, in sync with his sister. "She'll be fine!"

I looked at Jack and he pat my hand in reassurance. "Really, I won't leave your side. It's going to be okay. If it's too much, just tell me and we'll leave."

Trish carries a platter of cheese and motions for me to take it. "Let's set these up outside." She grabs a fruit platter off the counter and I follow her to the back deck.

The deck and the entire back yard is lit up with twinkle lights and I'm stunned. There are a dozen of cocktail tables set up with table cloths and embellished with candles of various sizes.

"Wow, Trish..." I stopped dead in my tracks, taking the scene in. "You and Rob did all this?"

"Well, mostly me. Rob helped. I guess you don't remember I'm a wedding designer?"

"No, sorry," I carried the platter of cheeses to her and she took it, placing it on the long banquet table next to the platter of fruit.

"Not a problem. This could be fun, you getting to know me all over again!" She laughed as if it's a game. "They say we don't get a second first impression, yeah? Hah!"

I chuckled as her joyful attitude is infectious. She turned to rearrange a few other platters and I walked around the tables, noticing a picture frame in the center of each one, each frame containing a different photograph. 

I recognized the same wedding photo of Jack and I that's hanging in the hallway, and smiled. A few others I've never seen before. Or, I have, I just don't remember them. Or anything about them at all. I picked one up ran my fingers over the image. Jack is laughing and I'm riding on his back, my arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. I'm kissing his cheek as best as I can as he runs. I can't remember it, but it does make my heart feel happy.

A pair of arms wrapped around my waist, surprising me. 

"Boo," Jack snickered when I turned in his arms. "Sorry. People are going to start showing up soon and I didn't want you to be left fending for yourself."

"Thanks. It looks fantastic out here."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she's outdone herself." He dipped his mouth low to my ear and whispered, "The best thing about having the party here is we won't have to clean up a thing." He winked and kissed my forehead.

The sliding glass door to the back deck opened and a thin brunette with her sights clearly on me came barreling out, arms wide open. "Holy fuck, Chris!"

I knew it was Grace. Knowing she was my best friend, I studied her in our wedding photos. I didn't want to hurt her feelings by not recognizing her.

She squeezed me tight, laughing, swinging herself and I side to side. "Oh shit, I'm not making it worse, am I?" She immediately let go and touched my forehead.

"What? No," I laughed. She was charming, that was for sure. "No, I'm fine. Hi Grace."

Grace took my hands and held them in hers between us, studying me from top to bottom. "Well, don't you look like shit?" She winked and let out a boisterous laugh. "You've lost weight! God, Jack! Why'd you wait so long to make this happen?" She smacked my husband in the arm.

Jack's nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath. "Just keeping her safe as possible."

"Safe from me? Seriously? Pfft." Grace pulled me away from Jack and we stood by one of the further tables so we'd be alone for a bit.

"Grace, I'm sorry I didn't try to reach out to you earlier. It feels wrong that I didn't."

Grace waved her hand, dismissing it. "Don't even. Chris, I'm just so fucking thrilled you're okay. For the most part. Oh shit, that was rude. Forgive me?"

I couldn't help but laugh. 

"Seriously though, how are you doing? Other than not remembering shit? Are you healthy? Are you eating? Sleeping? Having sex?" She wiggled her brows at the last question and I liked this girl already. It was easy to see why she was my best friend.

I watched Jack as he helped Rob with crates of wine bottles, setting up a bar area. "I'm fine. But no to the sex," I snickered.

"And why not? Jack keeps looking at you like he can't wait to take you home tonight."

Jack glanced back and gave me a cute crooked smile and a little wave. I returned the smile and laughed.

"It's weird. I don't know him. I know he's my husband but, it's awkward. It's like we just met. I can't go jumping straight into bed with him."

Grace nodded, understanding. "Yeah, don't be like me. Good girl."

More and more people began to arrive and Jack joined my side so I wouldn't feel so lost. He introduced everyone to me and one by one everyone tried to catch me up on the latest. 

Mary, a mutual friend of the family told me about her baby just turning six months old. "He's teething something fierce. I'm so glad to be able to get a sitter for tonight," she joked.

Kevin, mainly a friend of Jack's, shook my hand before focusing on a conversation strictly between him, Jack and a few other of their friends. I stayed by Jack's side, not even know who I would talk to anyway. Grace was mingling with a guy who introduced himself as Pete. Pete was a co-worker of Jack's. I couldn't even remember everyone else's names.

I was surrounded by a crowd of people I supposedly knew but never felt more alone.

I needed a drink. I let Jack know I'd be right back and left his side to get some wine. I could feel the stares as I filled up a glass and took a sip. I knew what they were all thinking. Poor helpless Christine.

Music was playing from hidden speakers strategically placed throughout the expansive back yard. I closed my eyes and listened, sighing and holding my glass close to my chest. I was done. I didn't want to be here anymore. I wondered how much longer we were expected to stay. A party in our honor, though? We'd probably be the last to leave. Sighing again, I tried to drown out the chatter of the crowd. No one here has done anything to help my memory. I focused on the music and tried to think of Jack. The way he watched me when he thought I wasn't looking. He was growing on me. It wasn't difficult to tell he wanted me. I still couldn't believe we've been married for ten years. I took another sip of wine, imagining what I'd let Jack do to me if I did decide I was ready to be more intimate. 

"Christine?"

My eyes flew open, having been pulled out of my reverie. My wine splashed as I spun around and I jumped back to avoid being hit by it.

After checking my dress, I looked up to see who startled me. 

He laughed, the man in front of me. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

His eyes were intense, as if he was trying to read my mind.

"It's okay. Did I get you at all?" I scanned his length, checking for wine stains.

"I don't think so." His smile was sweet and a bit shy. "Um," he glanced around before returning his gaze to me. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thanks. Sorry, I'm still relearning who everyone is. Please, don't take it personal, but who are you?"

He just stared at me and I wasn't sure if he heard me. Scratching the back of his neck, he shook his head, before letting out a nervous laugh. "I'm Tom."

"Tom. It's nice to meet you Tom. Have we met before?"

"Yes, we have."

"Then it's nice to meet you again." I stuck out my hand and he just smiled. It was quite a strange smile. I didn't know what to make of it. Finally, he took my hand and firmly shook it.

"It's great to meet you again, too."

Whenever Jack touches me, I'm unsure of how to react. Sometimes my reactions come naturally, surprising me. They seem almost contradictory. As I shook Tom's hand, I didn't want to let go. I felt a sense of relief. 

"Tom, how's it going?" Jack is suddenly next to me, shaking his hand as well. 

Tom pulls away and gives a nod. "Good. Good. Happy Anniversary."

Jack stiffened and placed an arm around me, pulling me close. "Thank you. Ten years."

I could feel the tension radiating off of Jack. Tom was apparently bad news. 

"So how do we know each other?" I asked him.

Without giving Tom a chance to reply, Jack spoke, keeping his eyes on him. "Tom is Rob's cousin." 

"Oh! Okay. I'll remember that." I took a much needed sip of wine.

Tom forced a smile and excused himself.

I turned to Jack and offered him a sip of my wine. Jack took a drink then grabbed my hand. "I have something I want to say. Come with me."

Together we snaked through the crowd until we were out in the open. Jack cleared his throat and raised his hand.

"Excuse me! Everyone, listen up! Pete, quiet down, Pete." A few laughs erupted as everyone turned to listen to Jack.

"Guys, I can't tell you how blessed I feel to be here right now. To hold my wife of ten years and to be able to tell her how much I love her and how much she means to me." Jack turned to look at me as he spoke. "Chrissy, God has granted me a second chance to love you as you deserve to be loved. And I'm going to keep on fiercely loving you until the day I die. Happy Anniversary, baby."

The crowd reacted with cheers and coos. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment but pressed myself up against Jack and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Happy Anniversary, Jack. Thanks for not giving up on me."


	4. Chapter 4

NOW

 

As soon as we got into the house, Jack was on me and I didn't try to stop him.  In fact, I'd been hoping it would come to this.  The little buzz I felt from all the wine most likely helped.  

We didn't even make it out of the kitchen before he flipped me around to untie my dress.  It was hurried and frantic, like our time was limited.  Jack yanked my dress down and I instinctively covered my chest before turning to face him.  He held me in his arm, peppering kisses down my jaw and to my shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around him, the goosebumps prickling across my skin making me shiver.  His lips met mine again and he began to unbutton his shirt from top to bottom.  I peeled it back off his shoulders and he promptly discarded it, sending it across the room.

Hands under my ass, he swiftly lifted me to the kitchen counter before pulling my panties down to my ankles.  I let them fall to the floor as he feverishly kissed me while undoing his slacks, letting them drop.

Jack reached a hand between us and slowly pressed it against me, testing my arousal.  I moaned against his lips and felt him smile.  Suddenly, he entered me and I stilled, pressing my forehead to his shoulder, gripping his strong arms for support.

My breathing picked up pace, matching the frantic motions of Jack.  He pulled away before quickly lining himself up, bringing my ass to the very edge of the counter.  My head rolled back as he roughly pressed himself in.  I grabbed the edge of the counter, afraid to fall.  He moved so fast and kept pulling me to him.  Before I knew it, he was grunting through his release, then became still, dropping his head to my chest to catch his breath. 

"Fucking finally," he groaned.

 

•••

 

Sunday morning, we were in bed naked, my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat as he slept.  My head rose up every time he inhaled.  I breathed in the scent of him before I rolled off of him and stretched out.

I sat up, my legs dropping off the side of the king sized bed.  It was early, the sun was barely up, but I was wide awake and needed to move.  

When I had first arrived back home, after searching through all my belongings to get a better sense of myself, I discovered an entire drawer of workout gear; leggings, tanks, and sports bras.  I hadn't asked Jack about them yet, but I suddenly had the urge to put them on and get out of the house.

I left a note on the kitchen counter, letting Jack know I went for a jog and wouldn't be gone for too long.  I wasn't even sure if I'd enjoy jogging.  

Outside, the morning sun was peeking over the horizon and it felt warm on my skin.  I tightened my ponytail and I stretched my legs, lunging deeply from side to side before pulling my heels up from behind, one at a time.  After I felt I was thoroughly warmed up, I started slow, taking in the scenery.  Driving around with Jack, I had noticed a jogging path that went around the lake several blocks away.  I planned to check it out.

After a couple of blocks, I picked up my pace, loving the fact that I wasn't too out of shape to do so.  I'd probably pay for it later but right now, all I wanted to do was keep moving.  I ran further and further from the house, the wind whipping past me as I gained speed.  I had graduated to sprinting and didn't stop until I reached the lake.

Clarksborough Lake was roughly eight square miles and quite a sight.  Driving past it with Jack, he filled me in on it, mentioning it was a hot spot for both locals and tourists.  There was a wide beach around the perimeter where I've seen countless families with small children and dogs enjoying the sunny afternoons.  To the west of the lake was a large park with picnic tables, benches, and a playground, as well as several large fields for baseball games.  To the east were several docked boats for rent.  Along the main road across from the lake were restaurants and unique shops I looked forward to checking out.  But not today.  I was sure I looked like a mess having just sprinted.  Plus, it was still early.

The jogging trail separated the beach from the park and shops with several strategically placed benches for people watching.  I stopped at the edge of the path overlooking the lake and sat on my haunches, catching my breath.  I needed to take it easier on the way back.  I had pushed myself too hard and did too much too soon.  I stood and leaned against a tree, looking over the water.  It sparkled with the sun and it looked like it'd be refreshing to splash around in.

I couldn't stay still for too long.  My body definitely wanted to keep moving.  I took it easy, leisurely jogging around the lake and back, enjoying every second.  I felt great.  I felt like I had gotten a major piece of myself back somehow.

The sun rose higher and people began to flock to the beach.  Restaurants prepared for the brunch crowd and I felt my stomach growl.  Maybe Jack would feel like some breakfast by the time I got back.  Maybe he'd even like to share a shower with me.

As I began to head back home, I found myself wondering if Jack was a runner as well.  He was tall and lean.  He'd never done it with my knowing, but maybe we ran together in the past.  

By the time I returned home, loose strands of hair were sticking to my forehead and cheeks.  I could feel my tank sticking to my back and I loved it.  I punched in the garage code and stretched again as the door rose.

Stepping into the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator in search for bottled water.  Finding one, I unscrewed the cap and turned around, letting the fridge door close on it's own.  As I took my first drink of water, Jack startled me, sitting on the steps of the staircase, car keys in hand, looking none too pleased.  I nearly choked on my water.

"Jesus, Jack!" I coughed and laughed, screwing the cap back onto the bottle.

"Where did you go?"  He stood, crossing his arms.

Still catching my breath, I pressed the ice cold bottle to my forehead to cool down.  "I left a note," I smiled, picking it up off the counter.

"Oh a note.  How generous, Christine."  I didn't know how to react to his blatant sarcasm.

"I'm sorry, Jack.  Do you run too?"

"No," he scoffed.  "No, I don't run.  You're the runner.  Always running.  Can you do me a favor?  Can you just imagine you nearly lost me forever and then woke up and I wasn't by your side anymore?  Can you possibly imagine how terrifying that is?"

"I didn't want to wake you!  You were sleeping so soundly.  Jack, I'm sorry."  I felt bad and I could tell he was genuinely hurt by my actions, or lack thereof.  

"You don't fucking get it.  You shouldn't be out running around without me.  It's too dangerous, Christine!  Until your memories come back, I don't want you out there alone!"

"Jack, I can't wait around for you in order to move on.  You can't be expected to hold my hand like a child for the rest of my life.  My memory may never come back!"  I remained as calm as possible.

Jack's jaw tensed and he chucked the car keys toward the counter, knocking over the roll of paper towels by the sink.

"Go take a shower.  You stink."

His childish manner almost made me laugh but I didn't dare.  I took my bottled water and slinked past him, quickly climbing the stairs.

I closed the bathroom door behind me and locked it.  I heard Jack in the kitchen.  Pots and pans were clattering loudly.  Cabinet doors being slammed.  I felt sick.  Maybe it was dumb of me to leave the house alone so soon.  I should have at least waited until he was awake so he didn't worry.

After a quick shower, I got dressed and made my way back downstairs, my hair only towel dried.  Jack stood over the stove with a small dish towel draped over his shoulder.  Only then did I notice the smell of the omelets he was making.  He had his cell phone pressed to his ear.

"No, she doesn't.  I promise you.  I know.  Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't.  You've got to stop calling me though."  He ended the call and stuck the phone into his back pocket.  I waited a little bit before entering the kitchen.

"Need any help?" I tested the waters, unsure if I should just stay out of his way or ease any stress by offering assistance.

Jack's head whipped around and he gave me a little smile.  "That was quick.  I was going to bring this up to you."  I leaned back against the counter as he transferred  the omelet to a plate.  "Go ahead and sit."

I walked around the counter to the breakfast nook and slid onto the wooden bench.  In the center of the table was a large vase of bright pink peonies.  Jack placed the plate in front of me with a fork and returned to the kitchen to get a plate for himself.

"Where did these come from?" I asked him, motioning towards the flowers.

He slid in across from me, smiling.  "Picked them out in the backyard for you."

I leaned in, smelling them.  "They're gorgeous, Jack.  Thank you."

I was curious as to who he was on the phone with but it didn't feel right to pry.  I waited to see if he'd bring it up.  I couldn't imagine who else the 'she' he mentioned could be.

By the time we had finished eating and cleared the dishes, curiosity got the better of me.  I dried off the last plate and handed it to him to be put away.

"Who were you on the phone with earlier?" 

Jack took his time answering, as if he had to think about my question.  He put the plate away, closed the cabinet and turned to me with his brows furrowed.

"When?"

"Just as I came down.  You told whoever it that they needed to stop calling you."  I wondered if he was being bothered by the local newspaper again.  When I first came back home, we had a lot of offers for our story.  It took about a week before the constant phone calls died down.

"I don't remember a call?"  He leaned against the counter with me, thinking.  He pulled his phone out and looked back at the recent calls received.  "Oh, Trish.  Just endless nagging.  She calls and offers unsolicited advice.  Nothing to worry your pretty head over."

He moved an arm behind me and playfully tugged on the ends of my damp hair.  His answer didn't satisfy me but I didn't want to press him.  

"I'm sorry for snapping at you, Chris."  He moved until he stood in front of me and took my hands.  He kissed the knuckles of my right hand.  "Forgive me?"

"Of course."

"If there's somewhere you need to be or want to go, I want to go with you.  If I'm at work, just call Trish.  You know she'd love it."

My phone was destroyed in the car accident; burnt to a crisp after the car exploded.  Jack bought me a new phone but I only had two numbers programmed into it so far: his and Trish's.

"What about Grace?"

Jack pursed his lips and sighed.  "I know Grace is your best friend, or you think she is, but you're going to have to trust me on this: she's not a very nice person.  You guys didn't get along much before your accident."

Why was he just now telling me this?  There weren't any signs of awkwardness at the anniversary party when Grace spoke to me.

"Why not?"

Jack shrugged.  "She was jealous of you.  Of us.  She's not someone who can hold onto a man.  She flits around from guy to guy and you've got the sure thing here, with me."  Jack shared a sly smile, placed a hand on the countertop behind me, leaned in and kissed the top of my head.

He lowered his lips to my cheek and kissed.  As he slowly pulled away, he hovered and I turned my face to his, my heartbeat thumping harder due to our proximity.  I moved and touched my lips to his, kissing him softly at first, then with more passion.  His hands moved to my neck, cupping my jaw in place.  He groaned with pleasure and pressed himself against me.

I was glad to have a sure thing with Jack.  But something felt off.  I couldn't just take his word on Grace.  She was wonderful at the party, and sure, maybe there was a hint of jealousy detected, but that was only natural.  I decided I'd figure out a way to get ahold of her sometime this week.


	5. Chapter 5

NOW

 

Jack had been coming home for lunch during the day, insisting he spend his lunch hour with me.  I had hoped the novelty would wear off for him after the first two days but it didn't.  After the third day in a row, I found myself dreading his lunch hour.  I felt like it forced me to stay home so I wouldn't miss being around when he arrived.  He didn't like me going out on my own anyway, but I hated feeling like I needed a constant chaperone.  As soon as he left, I knew I needed to get out of the house.  I only had two more days until the weekend when he'd be around every second.

"Hello?" Trish answered after one ring.

"Hey Trish!  It's Christine."

"Hey sweetie!  How are you?  You okay?  What's wrong?"

"I'm good, everything is fine.  I just feel a bit bored, stuck at home.  Jack isn't comfortable with me going out alone, so I was wondering what you're up to?"

"Oh sunshine, you're the sweetest thing.  I'm actually walking into a meeting with a bride right now!  And then I've got another one across town in two hours.  I'm sorry!"

"It's okay!  Another time.  Oh, quickly while I still have you, Jack got me this new phone and he programmed everyone's numbers in it already but I'm an idiot and accidentally deleted Grace's when I tried to call her."  I laughed nervously, hoping she'd buy the lie.

I felt awful lying but I didn't want it getting back to Jack somehow and then have to deal with hurt feelings.  

Trish laughed.  "Oh, boy.  Isn't technology fun?  Hold on, I'm sure I have it saved in my contacts."

A slight pause, and then Trish spoke again.

"Yep, sure do!  I'll text it to you and you can save it straight from there."

"Perfect.  Thanks a lot, Trish!"

We said our goodbyes and I waited for her text.

Grace's number popped up on the screen of my phone and I pressed down on it, saving it to my contacts.

Even though Jack tried to persuade me to steer clear of rekindling a friendship with Grace, I went ahead and called her but it went straight to voicemail.  Unsure of what to say, I hung up.  I spent three days obsessing over the idea of calling her.  I'm not sure what I had hoped to accomplish, but I felt the need to see her.  Without Jack around.

Tired of being stuck inside, I suited up for a run.  I just needed to get out of the house.  Surely Jack would understand.  Or maybe it'd be best not to mention it.  Glancing at the clock on the microwave before heading out, I knew I had at least three hours before Jack returned.  Plenty of time for a run and a shower.  Jack never needed to know.

I found myself back at Clarksborough Lake, enjoying the freedom I felt.  I loved the slight burn in my lungs and the sheer strength I felt as I pushed through the desire to slow down. 

A sharp snap behind my knee made me yelp and stop.  I quickly limped to the closest bench and held onto the back of it, stretching out.  I pulled my foot up behind me, stretching my quad.  I was worried about pushing myself too hard and I finally did.  I moved around the front of the bench and sat, elbows on my knees, breathing heavily, head down.  

While thinking a nice iced cold bottle of water would really hit the spot, a cold and wet nose nudged my cheek.  I quickly sat back, surprised by the sudden appearance of a gorgeous golden retriever, panting excitedly, wanting my attention.  It let out one powerful bark, making me jump in my seat, laughing.  I scratched the top of his head and he kept trying to lick my hand.

"Sampson!  Heel!"  The dog sat immediately, still panting.

I glanced up and saw a familiar face.  The voice belonged to a friend from the party.

"He won't hurt you," he promised, catching up to the dog.  

"He's adorable," I smiled up at him, stroking the dog on the head.  "Tom, right?"

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck, not really making eye contact.  In his other hand, he had a bright blue dog lead wrapped around it.  "Nice to see you again."

"What'd you say his name was?  Sampson?"

"Sampson when he's bad, Sammy when he's good," he smiled, briefly meeting my eyes.  He looked away, as if he were looking for someone.  Possibly meeting up with a girlfriend.  I took the opportunity to wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and smiled up at him.

I chuckled and Sampson placed a paw on my knee.  "He's really friendly!"

"Yeah, he likes you."  Tom nodded.  "Sorry if he scared you.  He should be on his lead but he's harmless so I just let him walk without it."

"It's fine.  No harm done.  You left the party quite early the other day; I hope everything is okay?"

Tom's eyes smiled and he stuttered over his words.  "Oh, yeah, well, yeah, no everything is fine.  Just... not a party type person."

He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.  When he would look at me, he looked directly at me and it was intense.  I felt myself wishing he'd sit and stay.  Whoever he was looking for could find him instead.

"I'm not either, really.  I think," I laughed, embarrassed.  "I don't think I am, I mean.  It was weird.  Everyone acted like they knew me, but I didn't know who the hell they were."

Tom gave me a tiny smile.  "Are you here alone?"

I watched as Sampson moved to the grass behind the bench and flopped down, his golden fur shining in the sun.

I drew my eyes from the dog back to Tom.  "I am.  I know I probably shouldn't be... Jack isn't crazy about me being alone, but I was getting cabin fever."

"Nah, you shouldn't be cooped up in that house on a day like this."  Tom sat on the opposite end, glancing back to check on Sampson who was happily watching the passersby.

I felt my heart rate begin to pick up, happy to have his company.  "Exactly.  Thank you.  But, maybe don't..." I grimaced, trying to explain myself.

"...don't tell Jack?"

"Yes, please..."

Tom winked.  "I promise.  Our secret."

"Thank you."  

"Have you been sneaking out often?" He was so far away, like he was purposely trying to keep as much distance between us as possible.  It felt unnatural.  

"I wouldn't call it 'sneaking out,'" I smiled, "but no, not really.  This is the first time.  Jack's at work and the only other two people I know were busy."

Tom's threw his head back and smiled big.  "Two people.  You're so popular!"

I laughed, enjoying his playfulness.  "Hah!  Right.  No, I think everyone at the party were pretty much Jack's friends except for Grace.  Do you know Grace?"

"Sort of.  But you're right.  It was pretty much Jack's crowd."

"Are you part of Jack's crowd?  One of his friends?"

"No."  He looked right at me, shaking his head.  "Not at all.  I am yours."

"Oh.  Well, that's awesome.  Now I have three friends!"

We chuckled and watched a mother with twins in a jogging stroller power walk past us.  One of the tots squealed at the sight of Sampson.

After a slightly awkward silence filled with a thousand questions racing through my mind, I wasn't sure which one to start with.

"So we were friends?"

"Oh yeah.  Definitely."  Tom turned to face me, draping his arm across the back of the bench.  "You knew Sampson, too.  That's why he ran right up to you.  You guys go way back."

"How'd we meet?"  I rubbed the back of my knee, still feeling the tingle of a pulled muscle.  I shifted until my entire body was facing Tom.

"At Rob and Trish's wedding, about five years ago.  Rob is my cousin."

"Oh, cool!  Okay, so you're family basically."

Tom smirked.  "Right.  It was a fun night.  The wedding was great.  You showed up late, though.  And without a ring on, I might add.  So, basically, long story short, I thought you were single and did my damnedest hard to flirt with you."

"What??"  I laughed, my cheeks turning red.  I certainly didn't remember that.  Before I could ask about the absence of my wedding ring, Tom continued.

"It's true.  I was embarrassing," he laughed.  His laugh was infectious. 

"Doubt it.  If we became friends, surely you made a good impression."  I couldn't stop smiling.  My cheeks were beginning to hurt.

Tom shrugged.  "I suppose."

We sat in silence for another minute, staring out across the lake, simply enjoying one another's company.  The awkwardness that was once there had completely vanished.  Tom's absentmindedly tapped his fingers, the beat humming throughout the bench.

"Do you know what time it is?  I left my phone at home." I shouldn't have.  But I didn't mean to get stuck on a bench chatting with an old friend.  A run and a shower was the plan.

Tom dug his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time.  "Quarter to five."

I groaned.  "I should go.  I need to get showered before Jack gets home at six and realizes I've been out for a run.  He nearly lost his mind last time."

Tom furrowed his brow.  "What do you mean?"

I stood, keeping my weight on my better leg.  "I went for a run while he was still sleeping and when I got back, he was awake and pissed that I left without telling him.  I mean, I get it.  You get it, yeah?"

"Sure.  What are you doing?"  He stood, watching me balance on one foot.  Sampson rose and joined Tom, standing obediently at his side.  Tom scratched his companion's head.

I winced, trying to flatten the foot of my sore leg.  "I think I might have pulled something.  Shit.  I'm fine, it's just sore.  I'll ice it."

"You're not planning on running back like that are you?  Even if you do make it back with plenty of time, you could make it worse."

I rubbed the area behind my knee, knowing he was right.  "Did you drive here?"

Tom smiled, nodding.  "Yeah, come on."

Sampson barked and ran ahead.


	6. Chapter 6

THEN

I slammed the door behind me, too angry to even see clearly.  I did my best not to cry, but my eyes betrayed me and welled with tears anyway.  I felt the fat drops spill down my cheeks and brushed them away.  I considered staying home, but I couldn't be around Jack for another second.  Plus, Trish was expecting me.  I couldn't let her down.  To keep the drama at bay, I needed to face the music; be the better person and just be a civilized adult.  But first I needed to make sure I could calm myself down.  I'd hate to show up to the wedding with a tear stained face and red puffy eyes.  That would raise too many questions.  Specifically from the bride on her special day.  I'm not selfish.  I won't let that happen.

It was chilly at the lake as the sun was setting and I didn't have a sweater or even a fancy shawl to go with my strapless dress, but considering I was still shaking with anger, my boiling blood indeed kept me warm enough.  Pulling my phone out of my clutch, I checked on the time.  I was already half an hour late.  I sniffled and stuffed my phone back in.  I'd have to make a quick stop to the restroom at the venue before showing my face.  Hopefully Trish didn't notice I wasn't present at the wedding.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot, it was packed.  Luckily there was a valet.  I gathered up my courage and made my way to the nearest restroom.  Of course there were plenty of women hogging the mirror, touching up their lipstick and fussing over their perfect hair.  I noticed mine was certainly not still in place, thanks to Jack.  As best as I could, I raked my fingers through the twist in my hair, tucking the stray strands back into place.  

Once I finally had the restroom to myself, I touched up my lipstick and pinched my cheeks, attempting to make them redder than my eyes.  That would have to do.

In the grand ballroom which held Trish and Rob's reception, most people were mingling either at their tables or at the bar.  The DJ was playing an energetic pop song, encouraging guests to get out on the dance floor.  It was obvious I had missed out on the dinner.  Servers were busy collecting plates of half eaten food.  My stomach growled, annoyed, but at least there was still the cake to be had.

The ballroom was brilliantly decorated.  Lots of tulle and drapes tied back with twinkle lights behind them and in the very center of the room above the three tiered wedding cake hung the most luxurious chandelier which looked like it was dripping with diamonds.  The lights were low but plenty of candles burned, casting a romantic glow over everything.

My eyes connected with Jack's across the room.  He rose from his table and waved me over.  I looked away, ignoring him.  Making a beeline to the bar, I came to regret coming after all.  Trish didn't need me.  A stiff drink, maybe a little chit chat with Trish and Rob to congratulate them, and then I'd leave.  But where would I go?  Maybe Grace's?

I slinked through the mass of men chugging down their free booze as if they couldn't get enough.  So classy.  Gaining the attention of one of the bartenders, I asked for a vodka and cranberry.  

"Are you a wedding crasher?" someone next to me asked.

Unsure or not if he was talking to me, I looked at him.  He looked me up and down before meeting my eyes.  

"Excuse me?"  I received my drink and took a small sip.

"Are you crashing the reception?  I'm pretty sure I'd remember you from the wedding.  And I don't."

I shared a tiny smile.  "No, I'm not crashing the wedding."

"Hmm.  Alright then, bride or groom?"

I turned to face him, resting an elbow on the bar.

"Bride.  You?"

"Groom.  I'm Tom," he held out a hand and I took it, obliging him with a simple shake.

"Nice to meet you.  I'm Christine."

His smile was a little goofy, but endearing.  It made me chuckle.  He wasn't bad looking at all.  He was clean shaven and had a little scar in his eyebrow that gave him a bit of a rough look.  I noticed him eyeing my left hand, a sure sign of his bachelorhood.  He was obviously looking to get laid.  I laughed to myself.  I had chucked my ring at Jack before storming off.  It wasn't any of Tom's business, so unless he asked, I was keeping my mouth shut about Jack.

"Well, Christine, since you missed out on the wedding, I'll give you the highlights."

"Oh, generous of you," I smirked.

"She said 'I do,' he said 'I do,' they were pronounced man and wife, kissed, and boom, there you have it."

I chuckled, taking another sip.  "You are quite the story teller, Tom."

"People tell me that all the time!  I swear!  God given talent, I guess.  A wasted one."

"And what do you do, if you're not gracing the world with your God given talent?"

Tom placed his beer bottle on the bar and signaled for another.  "I'm a boxer.  Or more accurately, I teach boxing.  At Curly's Gym.  Heard of it?"

"Oh sure, that's downtown, right?"  I was impressed.  

He was muscular but not on the intimidating side.  The sleeves of his dress shirt had been rolled up to his elbows and his bow tie hung around his neck, untied, something I found to be strangely attractive.  It was very James Bond.

He ran his hand through his short hair and brushed it in place with his fingers.  "That's the one.  Come see me sometime, I'll show you some moves."

"We just met!"  I laughed at his straightforwardness.

"So?  I make friends fast.  Another talent of mine."

"Indeed," I snorted.

"How about you?"  He took a seat next to me.

"What about me?"

"What do you do?"

I hated that question.  Every time I answered it, it was met with looks of pity.  As if I had no purpose in life.  I was a homemaker, which was the socially acceptable way I could think to say that my husband didn't think I should work; that he should be the one providing for us.  While there are many that fit that honorable role, it wasn't for me.  The shoe did not fit, and that wasn't to say I didn't try to shove my foot in as Cinderella's step sisters had done with her glass slipper.  I stuttered, trying to think of what to say to Tom.  

Thankfully Trish and Rob were making their rounds to say hello to everybody.  Trish grabbed me by the shoulders and squeezed my back to her chest.

"Oh, hello," I laughed as she squealed into my ear.  I spun in my seat and wrapped my arms around her.  "Congratulations, sweetie!  Congrats Rob.  You bagged a good one.  Trish is as fine as they come!"

Rob gave me a nod and beamed happily in agreement and pat Tom on the shoulder.  "Hey man," he addressed him.

"Jack was looking for you, Christine."  Trish found a loose strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear for me.

"Yeah, I know.  I'll find him in a second.  You look amazing, I mean, you belong on the cover of a fashion magazine!"  

Trish smiled widely.  "I know!"  She laughed.  "I feel amazing.  I think I'll wear this dress every day."

"It is gorgeous," Tom chimed in.  "The whole ceremony was.  Wasn't it," he nudged me, with a cheeky grin.

Trish looked at me waiting for an answer, her eyes hopeful.  "Yes, it was stunning.  Everything about it was just perfect and romantic."

Rob wrapped his arm around his new bride and pulled her in for a side hug, kissing the top of her head.  "You did good, babe."

Trish was in the process of becoming an event planner and wanted to use her wedding as an example of her talent.  I wish I hadn't missed it, and I felt terrible for lying, but I had Tom to blame for that.  Tom and Jack.  Men.

"So I see you two have met!" Trish eyed both me and Tom, darting between us.

"Oh, yes.  Christine and I were just getting friendly."  Tom smirked in my direction, his eyes washing over me.

I blushed, considering my brand new sister-in-law was observing his blatant flirting.  

"Well not too friendly, I hope," Rob chuckled.  "Christine is our new sister."

Tom cocked his head at Rob then back to me.  "Oh really?  How so?"

"She's married to Jack."

I hated that they were discussing me as if I wasn't sitting right there in front of them, staring into my glass of vodka and cranberry.  I wished them away so I could continue to enjoy Tom's company but instead they were making it worse.

"Ah, I see.  That's cool.  Nice guy."  Tom turned to the bar and took another swig of his beer.

I sighed.  Well that was fun while it lasted.  "I better go find Jack.  Congrats again, Trish.  Rob.  Nice to meet you, Tom."  I gave each of them a little wave before walking away.

I had told them I was off to find Jack, but he was the last person I wanted to see at the moment.  I was better off leaving.  I figured I'd pack a bag and go to Grace's apartment.  Her place was small, but I didn't mind crashing on the couch.  

Slipping my phone out of my clutch, I scrolled through my contacts as my heels clacked against the marble floor.  Out of the reception, it was a lot quieter, even though the bass of the DJ's playlist still thumping through the heavy ornate doors.

I found Grace's name and was about to press it when someone snatched me by the elbow.  It was Jack and he was dragging me along with him, taking me outside.  I yanked my arm out of his grasp but still followed him around the side of the building, tucking my phone away.

The sun was long gone, the moon full and bright, outshining the stars.  I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Where have you been?" Jack placed a hand on my hip, his face dark with anger.  

I stepped back, out of his reach, disgusted that he felt he had the right to touch me right now, after what he did.

"I needed some time to cool down, Jack.  I wasn't about to show up to your sister's wedding with blood shot eyes and tear stains down my cheek."  

I stayed calm as best as I could.  What I really wanted to do at the moment was shove him over the railing.  He didn't just break my heart, he stomped on it.  He completely and utterly betrayed me and I felt sick.  I felt sick because even though I hated him, I still loved him and hoped he still loved me.

"Christine," his face softened and his shoulders dropped.  "I'm so sorry.  I can't say it enough."

"Yeah."  I chewed my lip and turned my eyes away from him, willing myself to not cry.

"You believe me, right?"

I swallowed hard and still looked away.  What did he expect me to say?

"Christine, I swear.  It was a one time thing.  I fucked up, big time, I know it.  I'll spend the rest of eternity making it up to you."

I glanced at him.  His face was sincere, but I needed time.  I needed to process my emotions.  I looked over his tux.  His bow tie was slightly crooked and it took all I had to not straighten it.  He must have tied it by himself since I had stormed out of the house before he was fully dressed.

"Okay.  I've heard what you've had to say.  But an apology doesn't just automatically make everything fine.  I need to be away from you for a little --"

"No... Christine, don't," he interrupted, stepping towards me and taking my hand.

"-- Jack, please.  I need just a little time to figure things out."  I squeezed his hand, reassuringly, then pulled away as my voice began to crack.  "I'm going to stay with Grace for a few days.  Please, enjoy the party, celebrate your sister, and give her my love.  Tell her I wasn't feeling well.  When you get home later, I won't be there.  Please do not show up at Grace's looking for me.  Give me the time I need.  Please, Jack."

Jack just stared at me, taking deep breaths.

"Goodbye," I whispered, and walked around him.  

I didn't look back, but I felt his eyes on me.  The valet pulled my car around and I drove off, holding the tears back until turning onto the highway towards home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - marital rape

NOW

"If we had more time, I'd invite you in," I apologized to Tom when he pulled into the brick driveway.

He parked the car and Sampson barked loudly, his tail thumping hard against the leather seats in the back. He stood with his front paws on the armrest between Tom and I, the hot breath from his panting making me chuckle. I scratched his ear and received a lick across my cheek as thanks.

"Nah, it's fine; I understand." Tom unbuckled and got out of the driver's seat, making his way to the passenger door.

I blushed as he offered his hand like a gentleman. I took it and carefully climbed out, saying goodbye to Sampson. The windows were cracked a few inches and he stuck his snout out after Tom closed the door, sniffing the air.

"You don't need to walk me to the door," I smiled to him, letting go of his hand. My leg felt a little better.

"If you're sure you're okay?" He looked down at my knee and I rubbed behind it.

"Yep. I think a long soak later tonight is in order, but I'm fine. Thank you for the ride."

"Anytime, Christine. It was lovely to see you. I know you don't have your phone on you right now so I can't give you my number, but if you ever need anything, at all, you can usually find me at Curly's." He shared a sad smile and we just stood there in the middle of the driveway, Sampson watching us.

"Who's Curly?"

Tom smiled wide before chuckling. "It's the gym I train at. On Main Street across from the lake."

I wasn't sure how to properly send him on his way. A handshake? A hug? A simple wave? Nothing felt like the right thing to do.

"Well, uh, take care." He gently placed a hand on my elbow and leaned in, grazing my cheek with his lips.

I've been here before. Somehow. It was like déjà vu, this parting. My heart felt heavy and I found myself becoming emotional. I bit the inside of my cheek and gave him a quick wave before opening the garage with the keypad. The door groaned to life and began to rise.

Tom returned to his car and gave another wave as he backed out and took off. As soon as he was out of sight, a soft sob I'd been holding in released and I stumbled back, catching myself quickly. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I could feel that I certainly did know Tom. 

But just like the sneaking out and running secret, this too I would have to keep from Jack. At least for now until I could understand it better.

 

•••

 

Dinner had been quiet. We both had a lot on our minds. Work for Jack, and what I felt like was a memory resurfacing for me. I was anxious and wanted to ask Jack about Tom but remembering our anniversary party, it didn't seem like a good idea. It was bittersweet, not being able to share my progress with my husband, but indeed making progress. I should be excited, but instead I felt nothing but guilt and was left possibly more confused than before.

We enjoyed the chicken and rice I whipped up after a quick shower, and I found myself nursing my wine so much it felt like the glass never left my lips. I needed to be alone to process my thoughts. With Jack around, they felt a little cloudy. After Jack ate his last bite, he excused himself to make a work call and locked himself in his study across the hall from our bedroom.

Heading to our room, I pressed my ear to the door of his study and heard his voice. "I know, I understand, it's difficult, but I have to make it work. I need you to be understanding."

I left him to it and and started up the tub. As the tub filled I crossed the bedroom and I undressed, tossing my clothes into the hamper in the closet. My eyes passed over the painting hanging on the wall next to the door as I gathered my hair up into a bun on the top of my head. Something didn't sit right with me every time I saw it, but I could never put my finger on it. It was the odd placement and the fact that it didn't fit with the rest of the decor of the room.

Turning off the faucet, I sat back into the bubbles, letting them surround me. My head rested on a rolled up towel on the edge of the tub. I closed my eyes, doing my best to relax. The bathroom smelled of lavender and sandalwood due to the bubbles and the lit candles across the countertop.

I sunk a little lower, the bubbles tickling my lips. With my fingers I massaged the area behind my knee and thought about Tom and Sampson. I had enjoyed Tom's company, however short our time together had been. It was easy to see why we were friends. Something just clicked. And even Sampson left a mark on me, that goofy dog. I recalled his bark as we sat in the driveway, chuckling silently. And then the memory of Tom kissing my cheek played over and over in my mind. It hadn't felt unnatural one bit and I found myself smiling.

Suddenly the door to the bathroom opened and Jack flipped the vanity mirror's lights on. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the small canister of floss and began to floss his teeth, leaning over the sink. 

Once he was satisfied, he threw the used floss into the small bin beneath the sink and looked back to me.

"Hey gorgeous. Enjoying your bath?" He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. He had changed out of his work clothes, looking more lovable in a pair of black sweatpants and a plain gray tee.

I stroked the surface of the water with both hands, gently swaying back and forth, and nodded, smiling.

"Rough day?" He prodded.

I shook my head. "No, not at all. Just feel like relaxing."

"Hmm." He pushed himself off the counter and stalked toward me.

Jack knelt next to the tub, holding onto the edge to lean over and kiss me. It felt nice. He deepened the kiss by cupping the back of my neck. 

Pulling away, he let out a hum of approval. "How about a message after? Would you like that?"

I blushed and nodded. "That sounds great."

"Or," his eyes turned dark, "now." He slowly kissed me again. I heard his hand plunk into the water and felt his fingers snake their way between my legs.

I sat up abruptly, water spilling over the sides. Jack pulled away and frowned at his now wet sweats.

"Sorry," I giggled. I flicked my wet fingers at him, playfully splashing his face. Jack was not amused.

"You always take it too far, Chrissy." He stood to his full height and groaned at his wet knees.

"Me?" As if he wasn't just trying to finger me in the bathtub.

"Don't stay in too long. You'll prune and I don't want it to feel like I'm fucking my grandma." He turned to exit, leaving me stunned. He closed the door behind him, leaving the lights on.

I looked at my fingers, which had already started to wrinkle, and sighed. I tugged on the drain and stood, reaching for the towel hanging next to the tub.

Was there a point in getting dressed if Jack was expecting sex? I dried off and slipped into my robe to stay warm. Stepping out of the bathroom, I pulled the hair tie out of my hair, using my fingers to comb out the locks.

Jack was already undressed and under the sheets, turned to his side, propped up by his elbow. He watched me with a small smile. I smiled back and turned around with my back to him and slowly opened my robe, letting it fall to my feet. I glanced back at my husband and was pleased to see him painting me up and down with his eyes.

"Come here," he uttered, reaching a hand out.

I climbed into the sheets with him, shivering. I pressed against him for a kiss but he pulled his head back, avoiding it.

"Your hair is getting too long. I'll make an appointment for you tomorrow with Katrina. Let's go back to shoulder length." Only then did he place his lips on mine.

My brows were furrowed as he kissed me. I kept my eyes open and watched him. Then I pulled away.

"You don't like my hair?" I ran my hand through it, pulling a dark strand over my shoulder to look at it. 

I loved the length, the way it tickled me beneath my shoulder blades when I was naked. 

"It was short when we met, Chrissy. It's how I like it, that's all. It's just hair." He cupped the nape of my neck, pulling me to him, his other hand grasping me by the hip.

I kissed him again, shrugging it off. He was right, it's just hair. 

Jack rolled over on top of me, pinning me to the bed. He roughly kissed me beneath my jaw and lined himself up with my sex.

I panicked and pushed him back. "Whoa, I don't think I'm quite ready yet," I laughed. "We might need some lube if you're in a hurry."

Jack grabbed my hand and brought it to my mouth. My wrist hurt in his grip. "Lick," he told me. 

I opened my mouth and he stuffed my fingers in. I licked them and he then led my hand down between us.

"Do it," he said, impatiently.

"What?" I knew what he meant, but I didn't understand why he was being so unfeeling.

"Chrissy, do it."

I groaned and carefully inserted my fingers between my legs. I knew it wouldn't be enough, that I physically wasn't ready for penetration, but I was ready for it to be over.

Jack lined himself up again as soon as I brought my hand back out and shoved himself in. 

I gasped and grabbed him by the shoulders, begging him to be gentle, to go slowly.

"I will," he groaned, kissing me.

I prayed for arousal to come, but the whole ordeal made me uncomfortable. I let him fuck me and even though I winced at the discomfort, I kissed him back, encouraging him to hurry up and come.

"What's the matter with you?" He asked once we were finished. He pulled his sweats up over his hips and ran his hands through his hair.

I pulled the sheets up over my chest and hugged them tightly. "Nothing." I gave him a smile.

"Did you have fun? I think you should go darker too. I'll let Katrina know." He stood at the end of the bed with his hands on his hips, nodding to himself, not waiting for a reply from me.

He left for his study again and I curled up, turning to my side. I stared at the painting by the closet door until my eyes grew heavy and fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

NOW

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, Katrina proudly beaming behind me. She stood tall and winked at me.

"Jack is gonna love it. Girl, he's gonna be all over you!" She nudged me and I appeased her with a soft chuckle.

I reached up, feeling my now shoulder length hair, turning my head to view each angle in the mirror. It was slightly higher in the back. “You did a great job," I told her.

Jack had prepaid for my appointment over the phone, shelling out a generous tip, I learned, as Katrina couldn't keep her mouth shut. It was obvious she thought the sun shined out of my husband's ass.

I took a deep breath and accepted my new look, thanking her. Stepping out into the afternoon sun, I closed my eyes and faced the warmth. It was a Friday and I had the entire afternoon to myself. Jack had a lunch meeting with a client and when he discovered that Trish was unavailable to "babysit" me during my appointment, he let me go alone anyway, making me promise to stay safe and go straight home afterwards.

Opening my eyes, I turned and pulled my phone out of my purse to call for an Uber using the app Jack had set up for me when a sign in front of me caught my eyes. The sun was hitting the metal pole it hung from, bouncing the light into my eyes. I blinked and moved until I could see it clearly.

Curly's Gym.

I pulled the door open, the smell of sweat immediately noticeable. There were several boxing rings spread throughout, a few of them occupied with men sparring. Along the brick wall in the back were punching bags lined up, a few of them taking a beating. I had no idea if Tom would be there and I considered walking out as quickly as I entered. Then I saw him in the ring across from me, his fists up, bouncing quickly from foot to foot. 

At first I was surprised to see him. He was shirtless, tattoos down his arms, and across the expanse of his back. As he bounced from foot to foot and made use of the ring, I noticed he had tattoos across his chest as well. The tattoos didn't surprise me. He seemed like the type to be covered in them. 

Tom was sparring with another guy, one who appeared to be much larger than him. Like Tom, he too had tattoos; the most noticeable one being an angry bear across his shoulder. A few gym members were hanging along the sides of the ring, cheering them on, sometimes taunting. Tom struck his opponent quickly in the cheek and he stumbled back, jerking from left to right as he recovered from the hit. Tom watched him carefully, his arms up, ready for defense. Then, without warning, Tom lunged forward, getting him in the shoulder, then the hip.

"Come on, Grizz! Don't let him corner you!" One of the spectators shouted.

I felt out of place. I was clearly the only woman there. A few of the men around the ring noticed me and kept glancing my way. I ignored them and kept my eyes on Tom. 

Grizz took a few shots then wound his arms around Tom's waist. Tom elbowed him sharply in the back, causing Grizz to release his hold. Next, Tom kneed him and as Grizz fell backwards, Tom pounced, getting a good grip on him from behind. He had him in a headlock for a few seconds before Grizz tapped on Tom's arm, signaling the end of the spar.

The men around the ring cheered, a few of them groaning, disappointed.

"Who's next?" Tom teased the spectators. He looked around, his arms out wide. "Derek? All that smack talk, let's get you in here."

Derek threw his hands up, laughing, "Nah man! I ain't going down like Grizz!"

Tom then glanced my way and his hands dropped as he grinned. Grizz pat Tom on the back and they shook hands quickly. Tom excused himself and climbed out of the ring between the ropes. He dropped down to the hardwood floor and made his way over to me, removing his gloves. He tucked his gloves under his arm and took his mouth guard out.

"Hey," he smiled wide. His scruff had grown fast. Even though we saw each other two days ago, it was thicker. "I was afraid I scared you away."

He hugged me quickly, apologizing for the sweat.

"Not at all. I was actually nearby and thought I'd stop and see if you were in."

Tom was looking over my hair and he looked crestfallen. "You cut your hair?"

I reached up and ran a hand through it, not used to the new length. "It's darker, too," I told him.

"It's very pretty." He gave me a tiny smile but his eyes didn't match.

"Thanks. It feels like a fresh start."

Tom widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. "Feel like hitting the bags?"

My eyes widened and I chuckled loudly. "Oh," I waved my hands in front of me, "I don't think so."

"You used to enjoy it," he assured me.

I pursed my lips and looked back at the punching bags. They did look like they'd be fun to smack around a bit.

"Yeah?" I asked, cocking a brow.

His smile grew and he grabbed my hand. "Come on."

He led me to the closest bag and handed me his gloves. They were big on me and I laughed, feeling like Mickey Mouse or Spongebob, or any cartoon that wore gloves.

"Go ahead. Give it a hit. See if you still got it," he teased with a sexy smirk.

I glared at him, playfully, not feeling too confident but willing to give it a shot. I turned away from the bag a bit, pulled my arm back and threw my fist towards it. Tom’s eyes lit up as he tried hard not to let out a laugh.

I didn’t mind if he did, I was laughing at myself. “I guess I’ve lost it,” I laughed.

“It’s fine, we’ll get you back on track, easily. You were always a quick learner.” He stepped up behind me and posed my arms into the correct positions. My left rested just below my chin and my right a bit higher. “Have your strength come from here,” he wrapped an arm around me, gently resting his palm across my stomach, “from your core.”

I held my breath, feeling him behind me, his voice right by my ear. 

“Bend your knees a little, not too much, and give it another shot.” He stepped back and watched.

I breathed in deeply and pounded my fist to the bag once again. The impact made the bag jerk and I beamed as I brought my fist back. 

“Perfect! See? How do you feel?”

“I’m ready for the ring, coach,” I laughed, shifting from foot to foot.

Tom placed his hands on the gloves, bringing them down, away from my face. His grin was so boyish and I felt like I needed to always make him have that look. It was beautiful on him and it made me feel good.

“Look, I’ve got someone coming in a few minutes to train, but if you want, you could come back later in the evening? I’ll get some gloves for you that fit.”

I tugged his off my hands and handed them over to him. “I don’t think I can.”

“Right,” he shook his head, realizing he should have known it’d be impossible. “Jack.”

“I’m not even supposed to be here right now,” I whispered. “I should go before he calls.”

“Whoa, wait,” he reached out, taking me by the elbow. His grip wasn’t aggressive and I didn’t pull away. I looked up at him, waiting for him to continue. “Look, I know…” he sighed heavily, “I know Jack makes it a little difficult for you.”

I furrowed my brow and pulled away, offended. “He doesn’t. He worries. And he has every right to.”

Tom’s jaw clenched and he looked away, scratching the back of his head. His muscles taut with his movements. “Christine, I won’t cause any problems, but you know you’re safe with me, right?”

I couldn’t explain why I felt at home here at Curly’s. Jack never mentioned it. But being here in front of Tom, it was familiar and it made me feel like I’d found a piece of the puzzle I’ve been searching for. 

“I need to go,” I said softly. I left, leaving Tom at the bag. 

I called for an Uber and went straight home to be alone with my thoughts. 

 

•••••

 

I wandered into Jack’s study, not exactly sure why. I sat at his desk, sinking into the leather office chair. He had a view of the backyard which was easier to see from his office than from our master bedroom. I stared out the window at the only tree within our white fence and my thoughts drifted back to Tom. He was right; I was safe with him, and I knew that. Sitting in Jack’s study, it felt like the last place I wanted to be. The chair smelled of my husband’s musk and I struggled with the fact that it should be a scent that made me miss him, and I couldn’t help but be glad he was still at work.

Standing, I turned quickly to leave the room, tripping over the foot of the chair. I caught myself before hitting the wall by the door. My hand grabbed onto the wall as I righted myself but I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head. I cried out even though I knew I was absolutely fine.

I reached back and felt my head. I rubbed it, trying to make sense of the sudden throbbing. Keeping my hand on the wall, it skirted over the texture of the wallpaper Jack had picked out when we first moved in. My heart pounded and I pressed my forehead to the wall, relishing in that simple memory. It wasn’t much, but it was real. ‘Abstract Medallion’ was the name of it. He picked it out and I spent the better part of the weekend putting it up.

My heart was beating so fast. My first real memory. I left the study and ran to my room, falling back onto the bed to call Jack. He didn’t pick up so I found myself calling Grace. I had to tell someone. 

“Hello?” I heard her voice for the first time since my anniversary party.

“Grace, it’s Christine,” I smiled into the phone, so excited.

“Christine? Wow, hi! How are you?”

I giggled. “I’m great, how are you? I called a few days ago but you never answered.”

“Oh, that was you? I’m sorry, sweetie! I’ll save your number, hold on.” I heard buttons being pressed and then she returned. “Okay, done. I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from you or not. I’m glad you called.”

“I’m sorry to spring this on you, but Jack isn’t answering and I had to tell someone. I had a memory. I mean, I remember something from my past. It’s nothing crazy, it’s the wallpaper in Jack’s study. I remember us fighting over the pattern and I remember putting it up myself.” I was thrilled, grinning so hard, my cheeks hurt. 

“Wow, that’s wonderful Chrissy!”

I groaned, the throbbing in my head still pounding hard. I rubbed the back of my head again, willing the pain to go away. “Yeah, I can’t wait to tell Jack tonight.” I sat up and tossed my legs over the side of the bed, facing the closet.

“He’ll be happy to hear it,” she agreed.

I stared straight ahead at the odd painting by the closet door and frowned, the pounding in my head growing. “I need to go, but can we get together sometime this weekend, maybe?” I ended our call before she could reply. 

My head was really hurting. I closed my eyes against the pounding.

That painting. It shouldn’t be there. Suddenly I was unreasonably angry by it’s existence. I don’t know if it was the sudden migraine or what, but I had to get rid of the painting. I’d toss it into the closet for now and take a nap.

Carefully, I stepped toward it and grabbed it by the sides, lifting it off it’s hook. Pulling it away from the wall, I gasped and dropped it. Thankfully the carpet was padded enough that the glass didn’t shatter. It bounced once then landed hard, leaning against the wall I had just removed it from.

Right across from me was a hole. Not just any hole, but a hole that most certainly was not supposed to be there. I reached for it, ghosting my hand over it. It was slightly smaller than my fist. I moved closer, inspecting it, brushing the painting out of the way with my foot. The hole was right at my eye level.

Between my head pounding and my new discovery of both the wallpaper memory and the mysterious hole that had been hidden, I felt extremely overwhelmed. I began to weep. Another searing pain to the back of my head hit me hard and then I remembered. I saw myself falling backwards into the wall. The very wall in front of me.

No, not falling. Being pushed. Shoved. By Jack.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - domestic violence

THEN

I grabbed a few clothes, hangers and all, out of the closet and shoved them into a suitcase. Next I rummaged through the top drawer of the dresser, grabbing panties and socks and tossed them in as well.

In the bathroom, I managed to bag up all my make up and toiletries, nearly forgetting my toothbrush. My heart was pounding fast. I was shaking.

Jack's dress shirt was still balled up at the end of the bed. It made me angry that he didn't even try to get rid of it after I stormed off. I dumped my toiletries into the suitcase, then bent down to pick up Jack's shirt.

Holding it by the shoulders, I lifted it up and shook it out. The sting of betrayal hit hard once again, the smear of lipstick on his collar taunting me. 

"It must be ink," Jack had lied when I threw the shirt in his face. How stupid did he think I was?

We had fought before. I had thought it was getting better; I thought we were happier. I was more attentive and I did my best to make him happy. I was a good wife.

But it wasn't enough for him, apparently. I was tired of getting mad at myself because of him, though. His betrayal was not a reflection of me as a wife, I knew that now. 

I balled the shirt back up and tossed it across the room, letting out a yell. I closed my eyes and tried to compose myself, breathing in and out slowly.

Jack fucked up and he fucked up good. 

Unzipping my dress, I stepped out of it and went to hang it in the closet. Back to the dresser, I pulled out a pair of jeans and the first available t-shirt. As I wiggled into my jeans and zipped them up, I heard the garage door go up. I stopped breathing.

Nononono. I clenched my jaw in anger and pulled my shirt on quickly.

Jack's heavy footfalls came bounding up the stairs and I quickly zipped up my suitcase, grabbing the handle.

Before I could turn to face him, Jack grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back. He turned me around and angrily stuck his face into mine.

"You're not fucking leaving me, Chrissy!" he spat.

My eyes were wild, tearing up from the pain he was causing me. He had a good grip in my hair and any tug felt like my scalp would rip away.

I smacked his arms with my hands. "Let go!"

He tossed me back to the bed and I caught myself against it, standing.

"Get your shit out of there and put it away." His voice was calm now but I knew if I didn't do what he said, he wouldn't remain calm for long.

But I was so tired of being bossed around, of being so goddamn faithful, just to be laughed at by him in the way of infidelity. I gave him everything and here he was, thinking I'm the one who was going to ruin our marriage by leaving?

"I told you, I'm going to Grace's! You prick, that really hurt!" I reached back and rubbed the nape of my neck. "Don't touch me again, Jack! You're making it worse!"

Jack's nostrils flared and he smiled. "Chrissy. One last time. Put your shit away. Now."

"Jack, please. I can't do this anymore!" The tears were spilling out of me now. "I need time to process everything! You've completely broken my heart, Jack!"

I waited, hoping for him to realize how mean he was being. He didn't budge, didn't say a word. 

I shook my head and angrily wiped my tears away. "I need to leave." I grabbed the suitcase and lifted it off of the bed.

Jack lunged at me, grabbing my face in his hands. I dropped the suitcase and my hands flew to his, terrified that he'd crush my skull in. I cried out but he held me between his hands and shook me once.

"You can't leave me!" He cried. Angry, hot tears fell from his eyes. He shook me again and let out a sob before releasing his hold on me.

He slipped down to the floor, keeping a hand on my ankle, crying into my legs. 

I could hardly catch my breath. I fell down to the floor with him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I'd never seen him cry so hard. I'd never seen him cry, period. 

"You can't leave me," he said over and over, begging me.

I sniffled, my nose becoming runny from all the crying. "Please don't get upset, Jack."

Jack looked up and took my face in his hands again, much more gentle this time. "I'm nothing without you, babe. Nothing. If you leave me, I'll die. I swear. I can hardly breathe right now."

My heart cracked again. It hurt from all the emotional beatings it had endured today. 

"I'm not leaving you, Jack," I sighed heavily, my voice meek, trying to bring us back to neutral territory, "but I need time. Please." 

Jack sobbed and pounded a fist on the ground. He growled and looked up at me. "You don't believe me? You think I can just go on without you here? If you leave this house I will drag you back by your hair. Chrissy," he laughed between his tears, "you're not going anywhere."

The look in his eyes terrified me. The dominance he had over me a second ago I could understand; he was upset, he acted out. It's not easy when your heart is on the line. Like any couple, we fought. But lately, it's gotten worse.

Jack could be sweet. And when he was, I felt really lucky to be his wife. But nowadays, the tiniest things would set him off. If I left a dish in the sink without rinsing it out, he'd throw a fit in the morning when the dried food was crusted over. I didn't understand why he cared so much when I was the one that'd be scrubbing it. But for some reason, it mattered.

So I tried harder. But I'm only human. He, too, had he faults. Instead of bringing up the fact that he leaves his wet towels on the bathroom floor instead of hanging them to dry, I bit my tongue and washed out the smell of mildew, which I knew he would blame me for. I went above and beyond to make him happy, to make our marriage happy. If he couldn't see that, if all he chose to see were insignificant imperfections, what chance did we have of surviving?

Here, right now, was the smallest I have ever felt. Jack wasn't going to let me leave. He'd already given me a taste of his strength and I knew I wasn't going to be able to escape him if I really pissed him off.

"Okay." A piece of me died then. A light that had slowly been fading had finally been diminished. I stood and sat on the edge of the bed. Jack stayed on his knees and stared up at me.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally rose and stood over me. He grabbed my chin and tilted my head back, forcing me to look him in the eye.

"I love you, Chrissy. We're going to make this work." 

He placed his lips on mine and slowly pushed me back to the mattress. He was gentle with me, as if making up for his outburst only seconds ago. I shivered in his arms and I knew he interpreted it as desire. I shut my mind off and went through the motions of making love with my husband.

Later as we were sleeping, I felt him climb out of bed. It was dark but I could see his silhouette as he left the bedroom. I didn't say anything, I just pretended to still be asleep. I figured maybe he was getting a drink of water. He didn't return as quickly as he would have if that were the case.

Then my stomach lurched itself into my throat. I sat up and listened for any noises. What if he was talking to her?

As quietly as possible, I slipped out of bed and tip toed to the hallway. His study was empty and I felt a slight sense of relief but I wasn't satisfied. I gingerly treaded down the stairs and stopped at the landing once I noticed the light of the back deck on. I took a few more steps and spotted him sitting on the steps of the deck, his cell phone to his ear. 

My heart flew into a frenzy, beating erratically. I knew he was talking to her. 

I should have left him.... I should have left! Why didn't I leave?!

I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I hastily brushed them away and climbed back up the stairs. I slipped back into bed, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders. I was breathing heavily, my mind cloudy with anger. 

Jack took several more minutes. When I finally heard his footfalls in the hallways towards the bedroom, I squeezed my eyes shut. 

He better not touch me... don't touch me...

Ever so carefully, Jack returned to his side of the bed. He turned toward me and molded himself against my back. I tried my best to keep my breathing steady, to calm my heart.

He kissed my shoulder and wrapped his arm around me. His fingers found my hand and he picked it up gently. I pretended to awaken and looked back to him.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing, baby. Everything's perfect. Here," he kissed my shoulder again as he slipped my wedding ring back onto my ring finger.

I stared at my hand, the ring looking out of place now. I felt sad, it's symbolism now lost. 

"Are you okay?" Jack asked me when I didn't show emotion.

I shifted myself until I faced him. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me.

"Are we okay?" I didn't touch him. I just looked him in the eyes, looking for a sign.

"Chrissy, yes." He sighed and dropped his arm, bringing himself level with me. He kissed the tip of my nose. "I know I have a lot of work to do, baby. I'm going to make it up to you. Please believe me. I won't break your heart again."

I wanted to ask him who he was talking to on the phone, but a big piece of me didn't want to know. If it was whoever he cheated on me with, it would only bring up more questions and more grief. I needed a clean slate. I refused to let the idea of her poison my mind and consume me.

"Do you believe me?" Jack snuggled in closer, our lips centimeters apart.

"Yes."


	10. Chapter 10

NOW

I had to get out of the house. Nothing was making sense. I grabbed my purse and flew out the door, smacking into Tom who was about to knock.

"Sorry!" I caught myself against him, gripping his biceps. "I mean, why are you here?"

Tom apologized and I removed my hands, stepping back.

"You left so fast, I forgot I had a favor to ask of you and we still haven't exchanged numbers."

"Aren't you supposed to be training someone right now?"

Tom shrugged. "I canceled. I wanted to catch you before Jack got home."

"Tom, you and I aren't supposed to be friends, are we?" I crossed my arms and waited for a reply.

He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and thought carefully. "No. Jack doesn't like me."

"How come?"

"I'm not sure how to answer that right now, Christine. Honestly. You're extremely fragile right now and I'm terrified of breaking you but I can't stay away. I tried, but even after everything, even if you never gain your memories back, I will always be your friend and I will always be here for you."

"Tom, why doesn't Jack like you?" His answer wasn't good enough. I was tired of being babied, like I was a thin sheet of glass taking on a hurricane.

Tom crossed his arms, mirroring me and grunted under his breath.

"Fine," I shook my head. "I'll just ask him later. Of course, he'll be curious as to why I'm asking about you, which means I'd have to be truthful and let him know I've been running into you." I raised my brows, hoping he'd get the point.

"Christine." He bit his bottom lip and uncrossed his arms, stepping closer. "Trust me, you don't want to do that."

"And why not?" I was becoming impatient.

His gaze fluttered to my lips and quickly returned to my eyes. He was intense, the way his brows hung over like he was mad but really he was just deep in thought. How did I know his facial expressions so well? I was tired of not knowing how I knew such things.

On the road, a car drove past, slowly, breaking the tension.

"Tom," I huffed, exasperated, "why are you here?"

"I have to leave town for a few days." He had no problem answering that one.

"Oh?"

"My usual dog sitter is suddenly unavailable to take care of Sammy and I can't take him with. I'll be busy with the tournament."

"Oh, I see. Well, I don't think I know anyone who could do it... maybe Grace, I can call her if you'd like?"

A smile slowly spread across his face and he chuckled and looked away. Returning his eyes to me he said, "I was hoping you could. Sammy knows you, he loves you. And it'd give you a place to escape for the weekend."

"You want me to stay there?"

"No, no, I'm not asking that. I mean, you could if you wanted to, but I know that'd be impossible. Just check on him every few hours or so. A walk or two a day, make sure he's fed and has water. He's not high maintenance at all. Sure, he'd love for you to spend the weekend with him, but no, that's not what I'm asking."

The same car that drove by a second ago came back, this time going the other direction. They always slowed as they passed in front of my house. I looked over Tom's shoulder and I tried to make out the driver but the distance was too far. Tom turned to watch as well. The driver picked up speed and left.

Tom quickly turned back to me, rubbing the back of his neck. "You should go back inside. I shouldn't have come." He took a step backwards.

"Wait, no, I don't want to go in. I was on my way out anyway."

"Where are you headed? Do you want to go for a drive?" He looked back, watching down the street the direction the car took.

"Uh, sure." Anywhere was better than here. "I didn't even have plans, I was just going to walk, I guess."

Tom took my hand and quickly led me to the passenger side of his car which was parked in the driveway. After starting the engine, he carefully backed out and turned down the street.

As Tom drove, keeping his eyes on the road, I studied him. He had on a plain navy blue tee shirt and black cargo pants. The sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps and my eyes trailed over the tattoos peeking out.

He glanced at me and smiled. "Want to see Sammy? I should probably show you where I live anyway, right? I mean if you agree to take care of him for me?"

I grinned politely and agreed.

The drive wasn't too long, roughly fifteen minutes. We enjoyed each other's company in comfortable silence. I paid attention to the way he took so I could commit it to memory.

I hadn't agreed to dog sit, but the idea was tempting. I wasn't sure how to bring it up to Jack. I'd need a ride. Running was possible considering the entire trip consisted of back roads. I could hit two birds with one stone; get my exercise in and hang with Sammy. But how could I justify running several times a day with Jack home? What if he still didn't want me running at all?

"Wow," I softly exclaimed as I stepped out of the car, taking in Tom's house. He held the car door open for me and closed it once I'd moved out of the way. "I love the porch! Oh and it has a swing!" I was envious, I'd always wanted a wrap around porch. 

Tom held back a smile as best as he could but his eyes betrayed him. "Come in," he gestured me toward the front door.

Sammy was at the window, barking his head off. The second Tom opened the door, he came bounding towards us. His front paws flew up to Tom's chest and Tom scratched him behind the ears.

"Down, boy, behave."

Sammy flew back in the house and Tom followed. He held the door open for me and I stepped over the threshold.

A sense of familiarity washed over me and I knew I'd been here before. Tom had told me Sampson knew me. Maybe I've dog sat for him before. It made sense.

"So, uh, welcome." Tom guided me through the downstairs area real quick.

Nothing matched, each room contained an assortment of different styles, but it worked. The rooms were small and the wood panelling on the walls made them cozy. A small brick fireplace highlighted the living area and the couches looked inviting.

Sammy jumped up on one of them, his tail wagging. 

"Sammy's happy to see you," Tom chuckled. "If you're interested in taking care of him, I can pay you."

I slowly walked around the room, looking over the wooden bookcases, skimming my finger along the spines of the well loved books living there. Past the bookcases was a large sliding glass door to the back yard. I noticed a few balls outside for Sammy but other than that, it was vacant aside from the thick woods beyond it.

"How long will you be gone?" I turned to him and watched him as he gave Sammy a kiss on the head. The sight made me smile.

"Two days, Saturday and Sunday."

I looked back out the glass door. I blinked hard, knowing what I saw wasn't real. I saw myself in the yard, tossing a ball for Sammy, laughing at the way he would bound after it and refuse to let go of it after returning the ball to me. I held completely still, watching the memory play out before me. Wrestling the ball from his drooling mouth, I threw it again.

I gasped lightly and closed my eyes. Upon opening them, the scene had vanished. But the memory was real. My breathing picked up pace and I felt Tom behind me. I turned and he looked down at me, trying to read me.

"Everything okay?" 

"You said we were friends..."

"Yeah..."

I looked away and smiled at Sammy, his ears perked up, watching us. I crossed over the room and scratched his head. Glancing back up at Tom, I had a million questions for him but I wasn't sure where to begin.

"Christine, I know you better than you think I do. You want to say something, so say it." He crossed his arms and waited patiently.

I sat next to Sammy and hugged him before he jumped off the couch and ran out of the room. I heard him lapping up water in the kitchen. Tom didn't move, still waiting for me.

I sighed and placed my hands in my lap. "I remembered something, at home. Right before you showed up."

Tom's eyes lit up. The corner of his mouth turned up and he walked over, sitting next to me. "Yeah? A memory?"

"Not a nice one." I had a hard time looking directly at him. His knee touched mine and I felt a flip within my gut.

"Christine," he prodded me.

I turned my head to face him. "I'm scared, Tom," I barely whispered.

He sat forward and rested his arms on his knees, leaning toward me. "I can't imagine what you're feeling and experiencing, but whatever it is, you've got me. You can talk to me."

My breathing shuddered and I sighed deeply, trying to remain calm. "I don't think Jack was very nice to me. I found a hole in the wall. In our bedroom. And I remembered Jack shoving my head against the wall." I shook my head in disbelief, squeezing my eyes closed.

It couldn't be real. There had to be some other explanation. Maybe my brain saw the hole and my imagination went wild. 

I opened my eyes and looked at Tom again, ready for him to calm me down, to assure me it wasn't possible. Tom's jaw was clenched and I hated it. Everything about his face was not the reaction I wanted. 

"I'm sorry, Christine," he said. "To be honest, I had no idea if you'd ever remember and I was worried I'd make it worse if I forced those memories on you."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you need to be careful. You didn't talk much about Jack, but I've seen the bruises. I know he hurts you, or he did." His voice was deeper and he balled his hands into fists as he spoke, his knuckles turning white. "You made it a rule. Whenever we were here, we'd never mention Jack."

"Bruises?" I shook my head in disbelief and stood. "I shouldn't have come here, this was a bad idea."

Tom jumped up and grabbed my wrist carefully, bringing me back, pulling me to him. I let myself be wrapped into his arms, burying my face into his shirt, my plans against his chest. I was shaking, overwhelmed by everything. I hated not knowing the truth.

"Don't leave like this, don't leave upset," he hugged me to him, tightly. 

I relaxed against him, breathing in the scent of his shirt, the scent of him. 

"I know I've been here before," I said softly.

"Yes, you have." I could hear his heart within his chest, the beat growing faster.

I closed my eyes and listened to the strumming. "Why do I feel so safe around you?"

Tom let out a small relieved chuckle. "Because you are."


	11. Chapter 11

NOW

Sleep was not a friend to me Friday evening. I tossed and turned all night, very aware of Jack next to me. We didn't talk much during dinner. My thoughts kept circling back to Jack shoving me into the wall. 

Tom had driven me back home and we exchanged numbers so I could reach him if I needed to. I spent two hours by myself before Jack came home and the entire time, anxiety took hold of me. Knowing now that Jack could get so angry, angry enough to hurt me physically, formed knots in my stomach. 

I didn't want to be around him, but part of me still didn't believe it to be true. I couldn't see myself staying with a man who didn't treat me right. There had to be more to the story, more to the memories that were resurfacing.

After dinner, I cleaned up and put everything away while Jack went upstairs. Once I was finished, I went up to take a shower and get ready for bed, thinking Jack was in his study.

On our bed were our suitcases. Jack had completed filling his and zipped it up. He turned as I came into the room.

"What's going on?" I asked, staying by the door.

"You're staying with Trish this weekend, remem..." he sighed and paused, shaking head. "I'm sorry. Of course you don't remember. The annual golf outing for the firm is this weekend. You usually stay with Trish."

I felt a sense of relief. I wouldn't have to pretend around Jack for a little while as I figured things out. Also, I didn't have to worry about lying to him while I took care of Sammy. But Trish's house was on the other side of town, taking me further from Tom's. 

Luckily, Tom had insisted he pay me for watching Sammy. I could call an Uber since running was out of the question now.

"Why am I staying with Trish?"

Jack shrugged. "You always do. You go do your girlie things together. Hey, come in. Sit." He removed the suitcases from the bed and held out a hand to me.

Not wanting to cause trouble, I went to him and sat on the edge of the bed. Jack sat next to me and brushed my hair away from my shoulder. He kissed the bare skin and smiled.

"How are you? Sorry I was quiet during dinner. This outing is a make or break deal so I've got a lot on my mind. I'm sorry for being so selfish." 

I grinned but I couldn't relax next to him. "You're fine. I didn't feel like talking much anyway. I'm doing okay." 

Jack smiled softly, looking into my eyes. "Yeah? Anything you want to tell me?"

My heart jumped into my throat, panic rising. What did he want to hear?

"No... nothing," I looked away, my eyes falling upon the painting hung over the hole in the wall. "Yes! Sorry, I nearly forgot. I remembered something this afternoon. The wallpaper in your study. Random, I know, but I have a memory of us picking it out."

Jack scoffed, "Really? The wallpaper? That's a strange memory. I guess it's better than nothing."

"I'll take what I can get." 

"Anything else?"

I couldn't help but feel like he was trying to pry secrets out of me. I didn't want to lie but at this point, I wasn't certain I could trust him. 

"No. That's it."

"Hmm." He nodded and took my chin in his hand, turning my face to his. "I'm going to miss you." He gently kissed my lips and I sighed against him.

"I'll miss you too. When will you be back?"

"Sunday evening." He sat up straight and brushed a piece of lint off his shoulder before standing. "I need you to iron my polo. You should get your stuff ready too. Four a.m. will be here before you know it."

 

•••

 

Rob carried my bags to the guest room as I waved goodbye to Jack. 

Trish yawned, tightening the belt of her robe around her waist. "Coffee?" She closed the door as Jack drove off and signaled me to follow her into the kitchen.

"You guys really didn't need to get up so early for me," I apologized.

"Nonsense. I had to get up anyway. I have a huge wedding today."

"Oh?" I took the full mug she handed to me and sat at the table.

"Honestly, I'm not sure the groom will show up," Trish laughed. "Isn't that terrible?"

I took a sip and raised my brows. 

"Thank god I don't offer refunds," she joked. She sat opposite of me and took a long sip and sighed. "I know we usual get pedicures during Jack's outings but that'll have to wait until tomorrow. Rob can keep you entertained, somehow, I don't know. I'm sorry, I forgot it was this weekend and I didn't think you'd be staying here so I feel so unprepared and like a terrible hostess."

"It's fine, Trish. I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself," I chuckled. "But, and forgive me since I'm still sort of re-learning how my life goes, but I thought I usually stayed here when Jack left?"

Rob came into the kitchen, yawning loudly. I watched as he walked over to the coffee machine and poured himself a mug.

"No, not usually. Or, ever," Trish laughed. "But it's fine! Don't feel bad. I mean I get it, you really shouldn't be left alone during this time. We are happy to have you here."

"So I didn't usually stay with you?"

"Nope, this is the first time. Generally we'd go get mani-pedi's and then some lunch, maybe a movie. But no, you've never spent the weekend with us before."

I felt so confused and angry. Why Jack had to make something like that up was beyond me. 

Rob leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee while opening the newspaper in front of him.

Trish stood and dumped the last of her mug into the sink. "Better get showered. Love you, babe." She pecked Rob on the cheek and gave me a tiny wave before leaving the kitchen.

It felt awkward, just Rob and I. He didn't talk much. I didn't know much about him, but the way he sucked in his bottom lip as he read reminded me of Tom.

"Do you ever go to Curly's?" I asked him. 

Rob looked up, surprised, as if he just realized I was there.

"Curly's? The gym?"

I nodded and laughed at his expression, taking another drink.

"No." He resumed reading, turning the page.

"I heard your cousin has some sort of tournament this weekend?"

Rob grunted. "Yeah, he's a coach."

"Are you two close?"

He looked up again and frowned. "We used to be. Need more coffee?"

I looked into my half full mug and shook my head. Rob poured himself more and grabbed the paper, leaving the kitchen. He paused by the door and looked back.

"There's a bicycle in the garage, if you're interested."

He left me alone in the kitchen, amused by his last comment. Then it hit me. I could bike to Tom's.

Right then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I wasn't used to the sensation and quickly whipped it out.

**Tom: Good morning! Just left. If you can, Sammy will need to be let out again around 8 or so.**

I smiled, feeling a strange flutter in my stomach. I texted him back letting him know I'd be there and wished him luck.

A few hours later, I was at Tom's, unlocking his front door with the key he'd hidden under a rock. Rob's mountain bike was leaning against the house on the front porch. Sammy barked, impatiently waiting for me to let him out. I stepped inside and he greeted me with his two front paws on my shoulders. 

I laughed as he nearly knocked me down, and gently pushed him away. He excitedly followed me into the kitchen where I checked for any messes. His food and water bowls were still full.

"Let's go, come on," I gestured to him and went to the back door, unlocking it.

Sammy barked loudly and bursted out the back the second he got the chance. Tom told me I didn't need to worry about him running off, which was a relief.

I took a seat on the back steps of the deck and watched as Sampson sniffed around for the perfect spot to do his business. Once he was finished, he bounded towards me, his tail wagging hard. He nuzzled his snout under my hand, forcing me to pet him. I laughed and gave him what he wanted.

"You're a good boy, Sammy. Yes you are!" I scratched behind his ears and gave him a kiss. 

Back inside, Sammy ran to his water dish and went to town. Being in Tom's house alone felt strange. I had the desire to snoop around, but it didn't feel right. But the desire won out and I found myself making my way up the stairs to the second floor. I heard Sammy crunching his dog food, obviously not caring that I was heading upstairs.

At the top of the stairs was a bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet which housed a box of bandaids, generic aspirin, and finger nail clippers. It was a small bathroom, simply a toilet and a sink, which made me think if he had any medical secrets, they'd probably be in the master bath.

Down the hall was a small room with an easy chair, a desk, and some bookshelves completely filled, nearly overflowing. I kept going, finding Tom's room. His bed was unmade, which made me smile. He had a small television on top of his dresser and two bedside tables, each with a lamp. I snuck into his bathroom, which was surprisingly clean. I reached out and touched the towel hanging on the rack next to the shower. It was slightly damp. 

I opened the cabinet above his sink. There were a few combs, a bottle of aftershave, and some prescription medications; an antibiotic and a painkiller. Nothing incriminating. But I felt satisfied. I closed the cabinet, glancing at my reflection in the mirror, sighing.

My hand skirted over the countertop and a memory hit me. I was sitting on the countertop, wearing nothing but my panties and a baggy tee-shirt. Tom was between my legs and I was laughing as I tried to shave him carefully, the razor running along his neck.

Tom playfully yelped, making me pull away, covering my mouth which had fallen open in fear. I recovered, realizing he was teasing me and pushed him away.

"Not funny!" I stuck my foot out, pressing it against his stomach, keeping him from returning.

"Yes it is," he chuckled, grabbing my ankle, pulling my foot down to step back in between my legs.

He placed his hands on my thighs and stuck his shaving cream covered face into mine. 

"Tom," I squealed, wiping away the shaving cream that got into my mouth. "Do you want me to shave you or not?"

His eyes grew darker and he leveled them with mine, almost growling lowly, "Only if I get to shave you."

Sammy licked my hand, bringing me back to reality. My heart was strumming hard, nearly bursting out of my chest. "What the hell," I whispered, frustrated.

I looked down at Sampson, who only stared back at me, his tail thumping against the bathroom tile.

_Tom and me?_

I'd been cheating on Jack with Tom? Had I been? Or was my imagination getting the best of me? Tom did make me feel a bit stupid, but it was just a tiny crush. He was charming and attractive. But we were friends... I was married... _am_ married.

I walked out of the bathroom, glancing around Tom's room. There had to be something that'd tell me for sure. Some type of evidence. A letter, clothing, anything.

Pulling open his dresser drawers, I moved his clothes around, searching for something, anything that'd give my new memory validation. I huffed once that proved to be fruitless. Next, I dropped down to the floor and checked under the bed which was clear.

"Sammy, was I fucking your daddy?" I sat on the edge of the bed and pat his eager head. "Bark once for yes, twice for no."

Sampson groaned. I laughed to myself, feeling utterly ridiculous. 

"There's gotta be something."

I stood and marched to the little office room down the hall. Sitting in the chair at the desk, I pulled open all the drawers, one by one. Yet there was nothing. Nothing that provided any evidence of a relationship with Tom.

I felt disappointed but I wasn't sure if it was because I wanted there to be proof or if I was feeling a little betrayed by my brain, if it was making things up.

Back in Tom's room, frustrated and tired from being up all night tossing and turning, I kicked my shoes off and placed my head on his pillow. I stared at the ceiling, replaying the new memory over and over. It was so vivid, so real. I could hear his voice.

Sammy jumped up on the bed and curled up next to me, his nose on my shoulder. Soon, his snoring had lulled me to sleep as well. I would have slept there all day if my phone hadn't woken me.

I received a text from Jack.

**Jack: I'm sorry for being away this weekend. I feel like I need to be there for you more, especially now. Let's go out of town next weekend. You've always wanted to visit Lake Geneva - we'll book a B &B. Love you. Call later.**

I didn't reply. Instead I placed the phone on the side table, causing Sammy to shift, removing his head from my shoulder. I turned to my side, away from him, curling myself up. My arm slipped under the pillow and grazed something. 

Holding myself up on my elbow, I lifted the pillow, pulling out a Polaroid photograph. My heart began to race. Finally, in my hands I held the proof I'd been looking for.


	12. Chapter 12

NOW

"Rob said you were gone most of the day yesterday. Do anything interesting?" Trish rolled up her jeans mid calf before soaking her feet into the pedicure tub.

I did the same and sat back, getting comfortable. "Just rode his bike around town."

I woke up early and rode the bike to Tom's before she and Rob were awake. I played with Sammy and let him out twice before riding back. I'd even gotten a shower in before Trish was out of bed.

"So, did the groom show up?" I glanced over to Trish, raising my brows.

"Oh," she laughed, "Yes, he did. The wedding was awesome! Probably the best one I've done so far."

I tried to listen to my sister-in-law as she described the wedding, but my thoughts trailed back to Tom and the picture I'd found of us.

I wasn't sure what to do. I thought about texting him, but what would I say? _Hey, went snooping and found a photo of us kissing, what's up with that?_

All I knew for sure was that we were very much seeing each other. New questions arose and I was dying for answers, but I'd have to wait for Tom to return home.

"Have you spoken to Jack? Earth to Chrissy," Trish laughed, nudging my arm.

"Sorry," I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "Yes, he called last night. He should be back in town by eight. He wants to take me out of town next weekend. Little getaway to reconnect, I guess."

"Aw, Jackie boy... that's so sweet. You deserve it. As long as it's not Friday night... it better not be. I told him I was planning a surprise party for Rob! Did he mention it to you yet? Probably not. Ugh."

Chatting with Trish gave me some major whiplash sometimes. I smirked and shook my head. "No, he didn't say anything, but I'm sure it wouldn't be until Saturday at the earliest, since he has work."

"True. You're probably right. But nag him about it for me, will you?"

"I promise," I laughed. "Is it Rob's birthday Friday?"

Trish nodded, beaming. "The big four-oh!"

My phone chirped and I carefully pulled it out of my pocket, being sure not to drop it into the tub below.

"Is that Jack?"

I nodded, lying, as I unlocked my phone to read the text.

**Tom: We're out of the tournament. I'll be home sooner than expected. How is everything?**

I replied:   
**Everything is great - Sammy is happy. When do you think you'll be home by?**

**Tom: 4ish or so.**

"Everything okay?" Trish watched as her feet were scrub raw by the pedicurist, wincing.

"Yep. When we get back, if you don't mind, I'm going to go on another bike ride before Jack returns. I don't have a bike and I had a lot of fun yesterday."

"Yeah, sure! Have at it."

 

•••

 

It was a quarter after two by the time we pulled back into the drive of Trish and Rob's. I asked Rob for permission to borrow his bike again. He looked at me like I had two heads.

"Of course it's fine," he replied, as if it was obvious.

Sampson and I were in the backyard playing fetch when Tom arrived back home. I took a deep breath, still unprepared to confront him, but desperately needing to. Sammy ran off to the front yard once he realized Tom was back. I followed, giving Tom a wave before sticking my hands into my back pocket, just to have something to do with them.

"Sammy boy!" He dropped to his knees and roughly played with Sampson for a minute, burning off some of his extra energy. Brushing his knees off, he picked his bag up, swinging it over his shoulder.

"Thanks again for watching him," he smiled, making my heart beat even faster than it already was. 

The Polaroid I had found was sitting on the kitchen counter and every second we were closer to talking about it. I could feel my legs shaking.

"It was a pleasure," I smiled down at Sampson who was still trying to rough house with Tom.

"Let's go in," Tom said to the dog. Sammy took off, jumping to the porch, waiting for us to catch up.

"How was the tournament?" I walked in front of Tom after he gestured for me to lead the way. 

I couldn't even listen to his answer, my heart was pounding so loud in my ears. Tom dropped his bag at the bottom of the stairs and shut the door. I wasn't ready. As naturally as I could, I went into the kitchen to snatch the Polaroid before he saw it.

"Win some, lose some," he'd finished with as he followed me into the kitchen.

I grabbed the picture and spun around quickly, keeping it behind my back. I tucked it into the back of my jeans.

Tom cocked his head at me. "What's that?"

My face flushed immediately. I clenched my jaw and shook my head. "Nothing. Stupid drawing I did while I was hanging out here."

"Why are you hiding it?" He slowly smiled. 

"It's... embarrassingly bad."

"Christine," he stepped toward me, furrowing his brow, "Your behavior is... well, odd."

"Odd?"

He stepped forward again, giving me no room to escape. I backed up against the counter, trapped.

"You're blushing." His eyes dropped to my lips after observing my cheeks.

I was trapped. There was no way out of it now. I never should have brought the damn picture down here. 

"Let's see it," he chuckled as he reached behind me, grasping for it.

I jolted forward, against him, trying to keep the photograph out of his reach, but he was too quick. He pulled it around and stepped back, looking down at it in his hands.

His eyes shot back up to me. "You've been busy," he smirked after a moment. "Made yourself at home, eh?"

"I'm sorry," I raised my palms. "I took a nap and it was there."

He turned the photograph around, so  
I could see it, and stepped toward me again. "You slept in my bed?"

I swallowed hard, nodding once. My hands dropped, finding the edge of the counter, holding on.

His free hand took me by the elbow, stilling me. He looked into my eyes, looking for something, a signal that I didn't want this at all. Once he realized I wasn't going to object, he lowered his lips to mine, ever so carefully, like it was possible for me to vanish.

My eyes closed and I kissed him back, showing him I wasn't going anywhere. I released my grip on the counter and placed my hands on his chest. His lips were so soft, I was actually a little jealous of them.

I exhaled sharply when he pulled away. I wasn't finished, but it was good to have some concrete answers.

He gave me some space, backing away, grinning with his eyes more than his mouth.

"What..." I tried to form words, the right sounds not coming to me when I needed them.

"I just thought we should get that out of the way," he snickered, looking back down at the Polaroid.

"Us?" I asked. "Tom, I've been cheating on Jack with you?"

Tom grimaced. "Don't make it sound so shallow, Christine. I know it doesn't make sense right now, but you know Jack is not a good guy."

Was I really this person? A desperate housewife in need of a secret sex life on the side? Tom was right, however. I could feel it wasn't that shallow. The way I felt whenever he was near was much more than just sex. But I hated myself. I hated myself for doing this to Jack. 

"Whoa, Christine, I can see the gears working overtime," Tom spoke calmly. "Talk to me."

"I snooped. I did. I don't know why, but I did. I went upstairs and I went through your cabinets and your drawers and your desk. I knew there was something between us and I hated it. Jack has every reason to hate you. He has every reason to hate me! I was fucking around behind his back! God, Tom... but before I found that," I took a breath, pointing to the photo. "Before I found that, I remembered shaving your beard."

Tom's shoulders slowly dropped and he moved closer.

"Don't, please let me finish," I held up a hand. "I was sitting on the bathroom counter and I was helping you shave. Your beard gives me a rash. And I couldn't have that, I couldn't return to Jack with the rash marks all over my face, my neck... my thighs. And as much as you loved your beard, you let me shave it off. And I remembered how happy I felt with you. My heart hurt with happiness. I remember that now." 

My voice cracked as I continued. Tom's jaw was set, and his eyes sparkled. I could feel my own welling up. "Of all the memories I've regained, that was by far the best one. And I think that has to mean something."

Tom quickly nodded, agreeing. 

"It's not shallow. I don't believe that it was. But I'm not that girl anymore."

"Christine," Tom's nostrils flared and he cocked his head.

"I'm married," I sobbed. "That means something too."

Tom closed the distance between us, taking my face between his hands, the photograph dropping, fluttering quickly to the floor. He pressed his mouth to mine, kissing me hard.

I tasted my tears, the sweet saltiness of them, as he slipped his tongue in, dancing it along mine. I held onto his forearms as he held my face in place until he dropped his hands and wrapped his arms behind me. My hands went to the nape of his neck, my fingers raking into his hair.

Then I shook my head, pushing him back. He held me to him with a gentle grasp.

"Please, Christine, please remember."

"I'm trying! But what's the point? This is wrong, Tom."

Tom let go and backed away. He hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. "Have you told Jack?"

I returned my hands to the edge of the countertop. "No. Not yet."

"I really don't think you should, if you're thinking about it." He glanced up, concerned.

I didn't say anything, I just looked down at my feet.

"Christine, you and I were friends for a long time before we became anything else. I respected your marriage. I never pushed you. Do you remember how we met?"

"All I know is what you've told me. I don't remember any of it."

Tom grunted and picked up the fallen photo of us. He brought it to the counter and placed it down, turning his back to it and stood next to me. 

"After the wedding, was probably a month or so until I ever saw you again. You came into Curly's and signed up for lessons. I taught you twice a week for months. Do you remember any of that?"

I looked at him and shook my head. 

"One day you just stopped coming. Out of the blue. And it killed me. You'd become my best friend in that short amount of time. You stopped replying to my texts and you'd never answered when I called. I didn't see you again until I ran into you at the park with Sammy one day. That was when it all made sense. You had on these big sunglasses but I could still see it, the bruise around your eye."

"Okay stop," I interrupted. "I can't be fed stories right now disguised as memories. I'm not suggesting you're lying to me, but what if you are?"

"I'm not. You know I'm not." He groaned and turned toward me, resting his arm on the counter behind my back, his hand lightly pressing against me. "Why would I make this up? You said yourself you felt the way I made you feel, you can't make up emotions. You either feel them or you don't. How does Jack make you feel?"

I chewed my lower lip, considering his words. "Cautious. Nervous."

Tom inched closer, his fingers softly caressing my back. "To touch you again," he said so quietly, unable to complete his thought. 

He brushed his nose along my temple and I turned my head forward him and leaned into his touch. His lips found my temple and kissed. I closed my eyes and he kissed me again along my cheekbone.

A hand raked through my hair and he kissed my ear before lowly asking, "And how do you feel around me?"

"Loved." I lifted my chin and our lips met again.


	13. Chapter 13

NOW

“We need to talk, it seems,” Jack grabbed my hand and squeezed it just as I was about to take my weekend bag upstairs to unpack.

My heart sank but I did my best to play innocent. “Hmm?”

“Chrissy, I’ve been sneezing since I picked you up. You smell like a damn dog.”

“Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry, I forgot you’re allergic. I’ll wash all my clothes immediately and shower.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t let go of my hand, instead he stepped up to where I was. “And _why_ do you smell like a dog?”

I felt like he was challenging me, pushing me to crack and spill the truth.

“Trish had a wedding yesterday, so I went on a bike ride around town and checked out a bunch of different places, one of them being the animal shelter.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I was thinking I could volunteer to help out since I just sit around at home all day.”

“Well you can’t.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Wouldn’t work out.”

Jack watched my eyes and I smiled, waiting for him to release me. He leaned forward and kissed me. “Go shower.”

I nodded and continued up the stairs, tugging my bag with me. He didn’t follow. Instead he stepped out on the back deck, turning the light on since the sun had set hours ago. I caught him pulling his phone out of his pocket as he closed the sliding glass door behind him.

In the shower alone, I felt like I could finally breathe. How did I do this before? How did I lie to Jack’s face and keep Tom a secret? I felt sick, but only just a little. I ran my fingers over my lips where Tom’s had been a few hours ago. 

Tom had lifted me to the counter and I had wrapped my legs around his waist and it felt so normal, so natural. 

After I showered, I dried off and combed out my hair before removing my contacts. I slipped my glasses onto my nose and quickly dressed, wondering where Jack was. I went to the window and looked into the back yard. Down below on the back deck, Jack was sitting on the steps with his head on his knees, his arms hugging his head in frustration. My heart would not stop pounding. There was no way I could do this, I had to either tell Jack or end it with Tom, whatever it was.

Jack rose and I stepped away from the window quickly before he saw me. The light on the back deck went off and I heard the door downstairs slam closed.

Who the hell had he been talking to?

I opened my suitcase and dumped all the clothes into the hamper in the closet and tucked the luggage away. Jack came into the room and undressed, tossing his clothes into the closet, but missing the hamper completely. I bent down and picked everything up, shoving each item into the hamper.

“Leave any hot water for me?” He yawned. “I’m beat. Gonna shower and then crash.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t in there long,” I answered, but the door to the bathroom was closed before I finished my sentence.

I climbed into the bed and grabbed the remote control. I wasn’t tired, not with images of Tom floating around in my mind. Kissing him had been a hefty dose of medicine. The way his stubble felt along my jaw triggered so many memories, just the way he felt against me. I had to push him away, not wanting my face to get too red before returning home with Jack.

I glanced over to the bathroom door and listened. The shower had been turned on. My eyes landed on Jack’s phone on the bedside table.

As quickly as I could, I threw the sheets back and scrambled toward it. Before grabbing it, I listened for Jack. He was still in the shower, I could hear the splashing.

I held the phone in front of me, my hand shaking so hard I was sure I’d drop it if I didn’t focus. I unlocked his phone and checked his recent calls. The last call was not saved in his contacts so there was no name to go with the number. I chewed on my lip, unsatisfied, feeling guiltier than I probably have ever felt before. I read the number over and over. Scrolling down his list of previous calls, it was a frequent number. For someone he talked to often, why wouldn’t he save the number into his contacts?

Closing out of his phone, I locked it and placed it back exactly how I found it and returned to my side of the bed. I stared blankly ahead, the number replaying over and over in my mind.

Listening again for Jack, I grabbed my own phone and unplugged it from the charger and pulled up my contacts. I only had five numbers; Jack’s cell and work, Trish, Grace, and Tom. I checked each contact, hoping to match phone numbers. It wasn’t Jack, obviously, or his work number. Definitely not Tom’s… not Trish’s either. 

It was _Grace’s._

Why? Why the hell was he talking to my best friend?

I heard the shower turn off and I fumbled, hooking my phone back up to the charger, and taking my glasses off. I sunk down into the bed and turned the television off before turning the lamp on my bedside table off.

Jack opened the door and marched around the room getting dressed. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. 

As much as I didn’t want to think of it, I knew there had to be something going on between Jack and Grace. 

Jack snuggled in behind me and I held my breath. "I can't wait for next weekend," he murmured quietly into my ear. "I've missed you so much this weekend."

I didn't move, I stayed still pretending to sleep, but I couldn't stop the tears that slipped out and rolled down. 

 

•••

 

**Tom: I need to see you and soon.**

I mentally pat myself on the back for setting up a passcode on my phone after exchanging numbers with Tom.

I waited all morning for Jack to leave before replying, but even then, I just sat and stared at my phone. Was this a path I wanted to be on? It hardly seemed fair to Jack, even if he _was_ secretly seeing Grace as well. And what if he _wasn't_ seeing Grace? What if that was just a lousy assumption because of my guilt? But then why wouldn't he add her name to his contacts? No matter how I tried to spin it, all signs pointed to an affair. 

Jack had made reservations for a bed and breakfast in Lake Geneva for Saturday morning. If he was unhappy with me, why would he take me away for the weekend to reconnect? Unless he planned to come clean then.

I groaned and tucked my phone away for now. I didn't know what to do with Tom. I wanted to see him again, badly. But the guilt was too strong. I needed to figure this out first; I needed to decide which direction to go and commit to it instead of playing games. Jack deserved that, Tom deserved that, and I deserved that.

After doing some chores around the house, including the laundry to get rid of the dog hair, I had the urge to call up Grace. I didn't even know what to say, but I figured it would come to me.

The phone rang and rang and I didn't feel right leaving a voicemail. I felt a little frustrated and relieved at the same time.

I texted Tom back: **Hi, not ignoring you, just need some time.**

Almost immediately, he replied.

**Tom: I understand. Can you come over soon?**

**Me: I'll call you later.**

Tom didn't make it easy to keep my focus on Jack. I wanted to forget about everything and just climb into bed with Tom. But that damn guilt, tugging at my heart... it made me feel sick. 

Did I love Jack? Clearly, I must have at some point. Did Jack love me? I thought he did. With my accident, he had the perfect opportunity to say goodbye to me, to leave our past behind, but he didn't. 

I did my best to keep busy until Jack arrived home for a lunch break. I psyched myself up enough to bring up Grace and I hoped I wouldn't chicken out at the last minute. 

Jack came into the house quietly as I was scrubbing the pan I'd used to make scrambled eggs for breakfast. I almost didn't hear him. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and hugged himself to my back, kissing my neck.

"I'm taking a longer lunch break today," he whispered. "Let's fool around."

I turned the sink off and turned around in his arms before gently removing them. "I think we should talk instead," I suggested.

Jack stood up straight, looking confused. "What about?"

There was simply no easy way to begin, but I got straight to the point.

"I've been curious about who you have been talking to on the phone, and last night I looked."

"You went through my phone?" He cocked a brow at me, as if he was impressed. 

"The number matches the one I have in my phone for Grace, Jack."

A slow smirk spread across his face and he crossed his arms. "Are you mad?"

What kind of question was that?

"I'm really hurt. Why are you keeping this from me? I'm going over every option in my mind but it all comes back to you seeing Grace behind my back! Jack, please tell me I'm being crazy."

His expression softened and he stepped toward me, but I put up a hand.

"Tell me what's going on. Please."

Jack exhaled sharply and crossed his arms. "Before your accident, I had been seeing Grace."

The admission socked me in the gut harder than I had expected it to. I swallowed hard and waited for him to continue.

"You knew about it but you didn't know it was Grace. I broke it off with her, I promise. You and I have been working on fixing our marriage and then your accident happened, and, I don't know, I guess Grace felt like she could sink her teeth back into me, Chrissy. She is relentless and keeps calling. I answer but only to tell her to leave me alone, to leave us alone."

I leaned back against the sink and looked down at my feet. 

"Sweetheart, after your accident, I went crazy. I thought I'd lost you for good and I was ready to kill myself. I would never do anything to fuck this up again, you have to believe me. I love you so fucking much," his voice cracked and even though I kept pulling away from him, he grabbed my arms and held me before him.

A sob formed in the back of my throat. Jack took my chin and tilted it up toward him. 

"I am not cheating on you. I love you so much." 

"I don't know what to believe." I sniffled, overwhelmed. 

"Believe _me_ , Chrissy. Your husband! I haven't seen Grace in months!"

"What about our anniversary party, Jack?? She was there! You invited her!" I pushed his hands away from me and left the kitchen. Jack quickly followed.

"That was the only exception! I had to keep up appearances! No one else knew about us, but everyone knew she was your best friend. How would it have looked if she didn't show up?!"

"Stop talking... just stop..." I felt dizzy. I sat down on the edge of the couch in the living room and placed my head in my hands, closing my eyes. 

Jack's dress shirt with lipstick smeared on the collar... Suddenly I remembered fighting with Jack over that. I remembered holding the shirt out in front of me. I remembered Jack suggesting it must have been ink. 

I felt Jack sit next to me and it angered me even more. "Chrissy, don't hate me, please. I love you. Let me fix this, please," he begged, taking my hand in is, pulling it into his lap.

I needed to get away from him. Every emotion was rolling through me and I couldn't make sense of them. But I had nowhere to go. I couldn't stay with Grace, for obvious reasons. Trish and Rob's was a no-go; signs of both Jack and Tom would be everywhere. I needed a breather, a place where neither of them existed.

I sat up straight and turned to Jack. "This coming weekend, the reservations you made? I'm going alone. Don't you dare object." I stared straight at him, challenging him to test me.

His jaw clenched and he shook his head. "Chrissy, I think now more than ever, we _need_ to be together."

I groaned in frustration. "I don't care! I'm so sick of being pulled back and forth between memories and what I'm told! What I need, Jack, is to be alone. Alone! No one telling me who I am, what I like, what to do... Alone!"

Jack shook his head again. "Fine. Go off by yourself. If that's what it takes, do it. Have a weekend to yourself, and remember that I'm your husband and that I would do anything for you." He stood and stalked his way upstairs, locking himself into his study.


	14. Chapter 14

_I'm only here for this moment_

_I know everybody here wants you  
I know everybody here thinks he needs you   
I'll be waiting right here just to show you   
How our love will blow it all away _

_Hmm, such a thing of wonder in this crowd  
I'm a stranger in this town   
You're free with me   
And our eyes locked in downcast love   
I sit here proud   
Even now you're undressed in your dreams with me _

_(Jeff Buckley)_

 

NOW

Friday took its sweet time arriving. I held off on seeing Tom and I stayed away from Jack as much as I could, even though we shared a bed. If Jack still snuck in phone calls to Grace, I didn't notice. He either hid those moments very well, or only did so at work. There were a few occasions where he tried to talk me into letting him join me in Lake Geneva. The pressure to cave in sat heavily on my shoulders the whole week. But I knew I needed to get away or nothing would change.

Tom was much more understanding about me needing a break from everyone. I had called him after Jack returned to work Monday afternoon.

"I think it's necessary. Clear your head, collect your thoughts. I'm only one call away, if you need me." 

Now, Friday evening, I agreed to still accompany Jack to Rob's party. Trish, being the party planner that she was, reserved the reception hall above the upscale pizza parlor on Main Street. It was a lot fancier than I'd been expecting. There was a full bar and while there was a dance floor and a spot for a DJ, Trish simply hooked up her Spotify playlist to the speakers.

"Laid back" was what Trish had first described the party when I called to ask her how I should dress. Jack still wore slacks and a sports coat and I opted for a flowing maxi dress and strappy heels since it was warm.

We showed up half an hour early, as did everyone else, in order to surprise Rob when he arrived with Trish. Rob was expecting a birthday dinner at his favorite restaurant with his wife but since he was turning 40, Trish wanted to make it a more special occasion. Jack ordered me a cocktail and left me at the bar to go mingle with a group of men I'd never seen before. I didn't care that I knew no one and I didn't care to make small talk with people who pretended to be friends.

Servers were walking around with trays of finger food and other appetizers. I grabbed a few and had the bartender make me another Cosmopolitan before I casually walked around the room out of sheer boredom. Ending up at a lone cocktail table off to the side of the room, I rested my drink and placed down my clutch. I stifled a yawn and wondered how long I'd been waiting for so far.

I sighed, noticing that Trish and Rob were running late when I glanced at my phone for the time. I was anxious to get on the road in the morning. Jack was taking care of my transportation and I already had my bag packed. One more sleep and then I would be away from everyone and be able to breathe without being told how to.

Just as I was about to place my phone back into my clutch, a text appeared on the screen. I entered the passcode to unlock it.

**Tom: You look beautiful.**

I blushed and looked up. Of course Tom would be here for his cousin's surprise birthday party. I skimmed my eyes over the crowed of people laughing and chatting, not finding him. 

**Tom: Frustrated?**

I held back a smile and looked again. Spotting Jack I gave him a curt smile and took a sip of my drink. He waved me over to where he stood, in the middle of a conversation with another couple. According to Tom, Jack had no clue about the two of us and for the time being, I was determined to keep it that way. I quickly shook my head and pointed to the door.

"Bathroom," I mouthed and shrugged. I left my drink and appetizers on the table, pushing the heavy doors open and leaving the hall with my clutch and phone in hand.

Looking down at my phone I began to text Tom back when a hand went to the small of my back, walking with me. Looking up, it was Tom. Eyes straight ahead, he guided me to the ladies' restroom. He looked incredible. He apparently knew how Trish worked and had worn a suit and tie. He was freshly shaved and I could smell his cologne, the woodsy musk exciting me.

Once we reached the door, he whispered into my ear, "Make sure it's empty." His eyes met mine finally and the look went straight to my core.

I nodded once and went in, walking through the powder room quickly and then into the bathroom itself, relieved it was vacant. Everyone was in the reception hall awaiting Rob and didn't want to miss the surprise. I went back to Tom.

"Clear?" He asked, glancing behind him before pushing me back into the powder room by the hips. 

He locked the door and before I knew it, his lips were on mine, his hands back to my hips, holding me to him. 

My hands flew to his hair, raking through the tousled mess. His lips took in as much as he could, moving from my mouth to my jaw, my ear, then the sensitive dip between my collarbones which made me giggle.

"We don't have much time," he lowly growled, skimming his teeth up my neck, his lips meeting my earlobe, sucking it in.

I moaned, chills running down my spine, my flesh prickling with goosebumps. Reaching for his belt, I unbuckled it as he shrugged his jacket off. Quickly, he guided me to the plush bench in the center of the room, walking me backwards until my legs met the furniture. He dropped his slacks, his erection bobbing, and lifted the long skirt of my dress, piling it around my waist.

He wasn't wearing anything beneath his slacks which made me think he'd planned this moment, knowing full well he was going to take me with Jack in the other room, unaware.

Either I didn't care or my judgement had been clouded by the cocktails but I wanted him. I grabbed his tie and pulled him down with me. Bracing himself with a hand on either side of me, he lowered his lips to mine. I took his cock in my hand and teased his tip with the dampness of my panties. Tom groaned into my mouth and pulled his head up, his eyelids heavy with desire.

Standing, he hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and tugged them off, down my legs. He immediately tossed them to where he'd discarded his jacket and lifted my leg. Observing the strappy high heel on my foot, a boyish grin took over his face.

"Your fucking shoes, Christine, Jesus..." He kissed my ankle and his hand glided it's way up to my thigh, still holding my leg out. His other hand gripped his cock and he pressed the head to my slick center.

I held my breath, exhaling shakily as he pressed himself in. 

"Oh, fuck," I harshly uttered under my breath. I grabbed at him, my hands on his back, clawing at him to somehow be closer than he already was.

Hastily, but steadily, Tom ground himself into me, bracing himself on the bench with his forearm, his fingers caressing my cheek. I turned my head, leaning into his touch, kissing the pad of his thumb before parting my lips. He watched me intently as I sucked on his thumb, and he let out a grunt of exertion.

Tom lowered his lips to mine and we kissed, hard, hungrily. His lips were so soft and it felt odd without his usual scruff but just like the absent underpants, his scruff was missing for a reason.

I gasped, startled by the explosion of cheers coming all the way from the hall. Rob must have finally arrived. Tom stilled, and his eyes met mine. 

He groaned and dropped his head, pressing his forehead to mine. "I hate this. Hiding. You should be mine, it's my arm you should be on tonight."

I kissed his lips and smiled. "I know, I'm sorry."

We broke apart and diligently recovered ourselves. Tom slipped his jacket back on and held my panties up.

"These are mine," he smirked as he tucked them away into his pocket.

My jaw dropped and I let out a short laugh in disbelief before he put a finger to his lip, signaling me to keep quiet as he unlocked the door. I stepped out of the bathroom and gave him the okay. Quickly and quietly, he slipped out and went into the mens' bathroom next door.

Clutch in hand, I headed back toward the hall, my smile dropping as doors to the hall swung open and Jack came out of the celebration looking for me. I quickly recovered, sharing a small smile.

"You missed the surprise," he said, annoyed. Taking my hand, he yanked me next to him. "Stay by my side tonight, okay?" 

I winced at the roughness of his grip and he realized what he was doing and apologized, putting an arm around me as we joined the others in celebration.

Jack guided us to where Rob was in the center of the room, doing his best to give everyone the attention they wanted from him. Trish beamed as she saw me.

"Wow, sweetie, you look stunning! Here, have some champagne," she grabbed a flute off the tray of a server passing by and handed it to me.

"Thanks Trish, you look wonderful too! Your hair looks awesome." I sipped my champagne as her hands went to her professionally curled locks, giving them a bounce against her palm.

"Thank you so much!" She elbowed Rob and glared at him. "See, worth it."

Rob playfully rolled his eyes. "I should have known something was up when Trish spent four hours at the salon... on _my_ birthday."

I was thankful to have something in my hands as Tom joined us, stepping directly next to me, brushing my arm with his. "Happy Birthday, Rob," he gave his cousin a pat on the back.

Jack placed a hand on my lower back. "Excuse us," he nodded to Trish and Rob, then Tom.

"Happy Birthday," I smiled to Rob before Jack swept me away to an open spot on the dance floor.

"Everything okay?" I quietly asked him as he removed the glass from my hand, placing it on a nearby table and took me into his arms.

We slowly swayed and he gave me a quick smile before kissing me. Lifting my hands, he draped both of my arms around his neck, my clutch dangling by the strap around my wrist. He pulled me in tight and held me to him, grazing my cheek with his lips.

"Are you still sure about this weekend? I know I promised I wouldn't bug you about it, but just say the word and I'm there," Jack's voice vibrated between us.

I pulled my head back to look him in the eye. His eyes were searching mine, looking for an answer.

"I'm sure," I whispered. "Please don't do this, don't make me feel guilty about needing space."

He pulled me to him again, burying his face into my hair. "I'm worried I'll lose you."

"But why?"

We held each other and swayed in silence for a moment, save for the music crooning from speakers set up around the expanse of the room.

"Things weren't exactly great between us, before your accident. But we were working on us. And I felt like we were making progress. But before all that, there were hard times, Chrissy. A lot of hard times. Ugly ones too. And I'm terrified that you'll only remember the bad times and completely disregard what we had together. Sorry, _still_ have together."

Across the room, my eyes locked with Tom's. Jack's back was to him and we watched each other until he was out of my sight from slowly moving in a circle.

"I wish I knew what to say to calm those fears, Jack, but you understand why I need this time, right?"

"What if nothing happens? What it proves to be pointless?" He stroked my back.

"It's worth the shot. I want to forgive you for... for Grace," I swallowed hard, feeling terribly like a hypocrite. "But right now I'm overwhelmed."

Jack didn't reply. He simply held me and we continued to move across the dance floor. I felt Tom's eyes on me the entire time, even when I couldn't see him in front of me. I sighed and rested my head on Jack's shoulder.


	15. Chapter 15

NOW

Lake Geneva was a beautiful town full of cute little shops and cafés. Nearly every window on every home had window boxes full of blooming flowers. While it wasn't quite a small town, it did give off the small town feel. 

Diane, the owner of the Lazy Cloud Bed and Breakfast was stunned to learn I'd be alone for the weekend. While she was sweet to be concerned, the obvious "poor lonely girl" look she kept casting me became old fast.

Tossing my luggage on the king size bed, I went to the window across from it and opened it to let in fresh air. The distant wailing and caws of seagulls dipping around the beach were actually quite soothing. Poking my head out the window, my eyes scanned the horizon past the trellis in the back yard of the bed and breakfast. There was a dock not far, and a couple of paddle boats. It would have been a romantic weekend, if only I'd been in the mood for romance. 

Next to the window was a wicker chair with a simple cushion, and a dresser with a few figurines and wooden blocks, each with inspirational quotes hand-painted on. 

One read "There are no coincidences. The soul seeks its own path." I groaned and rolled my eyes.

I'm not sure what I expected to happen when I arrived here all by myself. What had I hoped to do? Sit in a chair and wait for memories to resurface on their own? No, my memories tended to repair themselves with a little help. A touch, a smell, a taste. 

What did I have all the way out here in Lake Geneva, two hundred miles away from home? There were zero triggers out here. Nevertheless, I moved my bag to the end of the bed and climbed up, placing my head on the pillow. I stared at the ceiling and listened to the sounds from outside. I sighed and closed my eyes. If all I gained from this weekend was a nap, so be it.

I shut out the light completely and relaxed, thinking about everything and nothing. My mind had become so jumbled lately, it was nearly impossible to organize my thoughts. 

A loud squawk from the lake made Tom come to mind. I pictured us in a restaurant together, enjoying a casual lunch. My heart rate climbed as I realized this wasn't a daydream, but a memory. Across from me in the booth, he took my flip flop off and rested my foot on his leg, caressing my ankle as we chatted. The waitress brought our food, placing a waffle covered in fruit and whipped cream before me. Tom grinned as I sat up straight, ready to dig in.

"I wish you'd look at me the way you look at food," he'd teased me.

My eyes opened and I smiled. Turning on my side, I replayed the events of last night in my head. The way Tom's lips brushed against my neck, the way he had smelled. I realized I was hungry now, especially since I skipped eating anything for breakfast, desperate to get here as fast as possible. I wanted a waffle.

Downstairs, I found Diane dusting the small library stocked with the classics and asked her for suggestions.

"Waffles, huh? Well, erm, there's several nearby if you head into town on the main road. I guess I'd say the best place for waffles is off Randall, called Cubby's. You know, there's also a bar that does singles nights on Saturday's!"

I laughed, shaking my head and held up my hand to show her my wedding ring, and thanked her, heading out into the sun. I placed my sunglasses on and faced the sun, embracing the warmth. 

The walk to Cubby's was only ten minutes. Nearly lunch time, it was busy, but I was shown to a booth right away. Instantly, as I slid across the vinyl of the seat, I recalled being there before. Not that seat exactly, but I knew this was the same exact location I remembered mere minutes ago. 

But I'd never been here before, to Lake Geneva. Jack said I'd always wanted to visit.

"Hello, my name is Patty and I'll be your server to-- oh, hello!" An older woman stood next to the table, pen in hand, ready to take my order. "Is your boyfriend joining you? I can come back, or if you know what he wants to drink, I can get your drink order for you."

I stared at her, processing everything she said. My boyfriend. Tom. I had come to Lake Geneva with Tom.

"Ma'am?" Patty furrowed a brow at me.

"It's just me today."

"Oh okay! Can I get you started with something to drink while you look over the menu?"

I ordered a coffee and asked for a berry waffle.

"Whipped cream?" Patty asked, writing it all down on her pad.

"Please."

As Patty left, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I wanted to text Tom, but I had promised myself I wouldn't, that I wouldn't contact him or Jack while here. Jack had already texted me three times, making sure I'd arrived safely. Out of guilt, I replied letting him know I did.

Why did it make things more difficult, knowing more about my relationship with Tom? Clearly, we were in love. I felt terrible for Jack. If I wasn't in love with him, why would I have stayed? Even Jack cheated, seeing Grace behind my back. If we didn't love each other, why was it so hard to even think about saying goodbye? We had no reason to stay together. We had no loyalties toward one another, apparently.

I honestly wasn't even mad at Grace and I felt that spoke volumes. 

Later, returning to my room at the bed and breakfast, I broke my own rule and called Tom.

"Christine?" He picked up after two rings.

I smiled at the sound of his voice, the way my name sounded coming from him.

"Hi. I just got back from Cubby's."

Tom chuckled softly. "I didn't want to ruin the trip for you, but I was wondering if you'd remember our time out there."

"I don't really, just the waffle. It was a damn good waffle, Tom," I teased.

I could picture his smile and felt warm. 

"What happened to you not talking to me this weekend? Couldn't resist?"

"Something like that." I smirked. "I spent most of the ride up thinking about you."

"I'm sorry."

I laughed at his self-deprecating tone. "I feel really silly right now. I came all the way out here to get away and now all I want to do is head back to you."

"Then come back. Tell Jack you're done. You've wasted enough of your life with him."

I groaned, knowing it was easier said than done. Jack was expecting me to return to him with forgiveness for what had happened in the past with Grace, even if it was water under the bridge by now.

"I know that sound. Christine. I'm not going to tell you what to do. That's Jack. And I'm not going to force your memories on you because your trust is so, so important to me. I have faith in us. You said yourself most of your returned memories have been of the two of us, right?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "All of them, basically."

"That's gotta count for something, eh?"

I sat quietly for a moment, just thinking, before replying. "He's fighting for me, for our marriage."

"Chris-"

"I'm just thinking out loud."

"Do you think I'm not fighting for you?"

"That's not what I meant, I'm sorry. I know Jack isn't perfect, but I can see he's trying. He's trying to change, to fix everything."

"Fuck, Christine."

"I'm sorry! I hate this! I do want to be with you! But what if I regain all my memories of our marriage and it's too late because I've left him? God, I feel extremely selfish saying that. I'm a terrible person, Tom, but the guilt is destroying me."

"Give me one good reason why you should stay with him."

My ears were hot. I was angry with myself. I did not want to be arguing with Tom about this. Why did I call him? I clearly haven't sorted a damned thing out yet. 

"Because he loves me."

"I love you!"

I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second, pressing a shaky hand to my forehead, tears welling. Bringing it back to my ear, I swallowed hard, not allowing my emotions to surface.

"I love you too."

"Then what, Christine?"

"I love Jack too, I do."

I balled my hand into a fist and rested it on my knee, watching my knuckles turn white. I shook my hand out, the color returning. Tom didn't reply.

"Tom?"

"I can't do this. I can't. Promise me something. Please? Christine?"

A sob escaped and I angrily brushed away a tear that slipped out. "Yes?"

"Please, just take your time up there. Stay in your room, think, try to remember things, do what you have to do. Just promise me you won't talk to him. Not yet."

What else was I going to do? The singles night at the bar could be fun. I sniffled, smiling at my own joke. "I promise."

"Okay. We'll talk again later. Get some rest, okay?"

Sighing, I fell back against the bed. "Okay. Bye."

We hung up and I stretched out to the bedside table and placed my phone on it. A nap would be nice. I did pack a bathing suit and decided after resting for a little bit, I could grab a classic out of Diane's library and sunbathe while reading. Then maybe the entire weekend wouldn't be a total waste after all.


	16. Chapter 16

NOW

"Taking advantage of the beautiful day, sweetie?" Diane asked as I climbed down the stairs in my bikini, wearing a tee shirt over it, and flip flops. I stifled a yawn. I had slept longer than I meant to.

"Definitely. It's gorgeous out. You wouldn't happen to have a beach towel I could borrow, would you? I didn't even think to pack one." I met her at the bottom of the stairs and she nodded.

I browsed over the small library and picked up Wuthering Heights, signing it out on the little notepad next to the bookcase. Diane returned with a towel for me and I thanked her.

"Oh, excellent choice," she said, noticing the book I selected.

I flipped the towel over my shoulder and my shirt rode up. I quickly tugged it down before she could eye the scar across my stomach. 

Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom upstairs, I decided to wear a shirt over my bikini since the scar was still so new. I wasn't ashamed of it, but it wasn't something I wanted to show off, exactly. Even Jack had a hard time looking at it when we were in bed together. I was in no mood to talk about my accident and the scar would certainly draw unwanted attention. Chatty Diane would ask questions and all I wanted was to be left alone this weekend.

Out in the sand, I kicked my flip flops off, picking them up. The beach was lonely. I guessed the area was private property which was fine with me. My thumb absentmindedly stroked against my bare ring finger. I had removed the ring and tucked it into my bag for safe keeping as I went to the lake.

I tore through a good chunk of Wuthering Heights, thankful for the complimentary spa themed gift basket Diane had placed in my room. The sunscreen was another thing I hadn't considered packing but thanks to Diane, I was covered.

Curious gulls hung around, wondering if I had any treats for them. After an hour of reading quietly to myself, they finally flew further down the beach, leaving me to myself, taking their loud caws with them. Reaching a good stopping point in the book, I remembered the page number before closing it shut. I didn't want to dog ear the page and ruin Diane's property. I wasn't a monster. Placing the book on the towel, I headed towards the water. I toed the small waves running up the sand and delighted in the way my feet sunk into the sand. 

I waded in, the water rising past my knees, then to my hips, the edge of my shirt dipping in. My palms brushed along the surface, and I swayed my arms, making small ripples. Bending at the knees, I dropped into the lake more, the water rising past my shoulders. I held my breath and went under quickly. Resurfacing, I swept my hair out of my face and ran my fingers through it, standing at full height. The sun was beginning to sink in the horizon, casting a stunning pink and purple glow across the clouds nearby.

Careful to not get the book wet, I held it away from me after drying off to the best of my ability. Flip flops in hand, I headed back to the Lazy Cloud, feeling refreshed. The sun and water did me good. Even the sand had seemed to breathe some new life into me.

I opened the sliding glass door to the back of the bed and breakfast and dropped my flip flops to the floor, brushing the sand from my feet outside before stepping into them. As I closed the door behind me, Diane came into the room, startling me. I'd been so used to my solitude.

"Did you have a good time?"

I nodded, smiling. "Yes, thank you."

Diane had a strange smile on her face, almost like she was about to laugh.

I chuckled softly at her expression. "How are you, Diane?"

"Your husband is here," she blurted quietly. "I think he wanted to surprise you but I'm sorry, I couldn't help it! It's so romantic! Please pretend to be surprised, don't tell him I told you!"

My mouth opened but no words would come. I wasn't sure how I felt. I hadn't had the time I quite needed to figure out where my head was, or more aptly, my heart. 

I thanked Diane, assuring her I'd act surprised, and headed upstairs to face Jack. With each step, my heart sank further into my stomach. I didn't want to see him. Not yet anyway. Once I reached the door, I realized I was shaking. I was angry. 

Opening the door, I stepped into the room, prepared to ask him to leave and give me the space I had asked him for.

But it wasn't Jack that had come. It was Tom.

He was sitting in the wicker chair next to the window, one leg crossed, his ankle resting on his knee. I closed the door softly. He sat up straight immediately, both feet to the floor and I became extremely aware of my body, of the way my shirt was clinging to my chest and stomach.

His eyes scrolled down then up my figure and he cleared his throat before standing.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my heart pounding.

Slowly, he crossed the room toward me. "This is me fighting for you." With his hands, he cupped my jaw and brought his mouth to mine, our lips colliding, his slight scruff feeling rough but lovely.

The book and towel dropped from my hands as I grasped him by the front of his shirt. He lowered his hands to my back, pressing against my skin underneath my soaked shirt. He felt so warm and I wanted more of his touch. I tugged at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it upward. We parted merely for the few seconds it took for him to remove it then I was back in his arms again. 

"I can't believe you're here," I hummed as I kissed his chest. 

His fingers raked through my wet hair and he gently tugged it back, forcing me to look up at him. He kissed me softly, his plush lips peppering the corners of my mouth, then skirting along the edge of my jaw. My flesh reacted to the sensation, goosebumps spreading all over. I giggled, embarrassed for feeling like such a teenager. 

Tom kissed my ear, his nose buried into my hair. "You smell so good."

A heavy throb grew within my core and after the little taste he provided yesterday of what he had to offer, I was hungry for more. I felt myself growing more wet between my thighs, the rougher his kisses became. 

His lips back to mine, we stumbled toward the bed. He sat on the edge and yanked me to him, his hands on my ass. He grabbed my shirt between his teeth and glanced up at me, smirking. His hands slipped under my shirt again and he palmed my ass before curling his fingers into the band of my bikini bottoms. Being wet from the lake, they stuck to me well. He tugged on them and they budged, inch by inch slipping down my thighs. Finally they were able to drop and I stepped out of them.

Tom slipped a hand between my thighs, a finger caressing against my slick slit. I held onto his shoulders for balance as my knees were beginning to feel a little weak. 

His eyes stayed fixed on my face. He moaned as his finger was coated with my arousal. Pulling his hand away, he slipped his finger into his mouth and sucked it clean.

"Get on the bed." He moved and I climbed up, lying back on the bed as he quickly kicked off his shoes and socks and removed his jeans and briefs. 

At the end of the bed, Tom climbed toward me, pushing my legs apart, his hands running up to my inner thighs. He parked himself between my legs and kissed each thigh painfully slow before moving to the apex. I gasped as he latched himself onto me, his tongue stroking my lips apart. I covered my face with my hands, overwhelmed with sensation. He tongued and sucked on the swollen bud that threatened to undo me and brought two fingers to my slit, pressing in, and filling me.

My toes curled and I lifted my hips up, wanting more. My breathing was unsteady and I swear my brain had turned to mush. Whimpers escaped my lips as he found the perfect spot to stroke me, causing my thighs to slowly shake against him.

"Stop, s-stop, please, God..." I yanked on his hair.

He looked up, that childish grin that made my heart skip a beat spreading across his face. Moving to his knees, he gripped the bottom of my shirt at the sides and began to pull it up, exposing my stomach. He stilled, eyeing the scar below my belly button. His smile dropped, as did his shoulders.

I became self conscious, tugging my shirt back down. "It's from the accident. I had internal bleeding. It's not a big deal. It's just a scar..." I wasn't quite sure if I was talking to him or myself.

Tom didn't respond. He stopped me from covering it, making me lift the shirt back up. He drew his brows together, placing a hand over the scar. He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, placing it on my stomach. He jaw clenched and he gripped the bedsheets with his hands, his knuckles turning white. Exhaling sharply, he relaxed and kissed my scar, rising to all fours. Hovering over me, he placed his lips on mine, gently kissing me.

Tom's demeanor had changed. The playful dominance he had been showing turned tame. The evidence of the accident must have hit a nerve. I found it sweet, the way he had reacted. The man who wanted only to do bad things to me had turned into someone simply wanting to take care of me. His kisses were cautious and feathery. He dropped himself next to me, digging his hand into my hair behind my ear. I turned to look into his eyes. They bore into mine. He was fighting back tears, I could tell. 

I shifted on the bed, facing him completely. He opened his arms and I nestled into the crook he provided. He pressed his lips to my forehead, wrapping his arms around me. 

My leg inched up, and he grabbed it behind the knee, hitching it over his hip. His erection pressed against me and he sighed, gently moving his hips, the friction feeling wonderful. Together, we rolled until Tom was on his back and I sat over him. 

"Take your shirt off," he sighed. 

I lifted it over my head and tossed it to the floor, then reached back and untied my bikini top, letting it fall. Tom dropped it over the side of the bed and then brought his hands to my breasts. I leaned into his touch and began to move against his cock. He slowly blinked and I reached between us, steadying him enough so I could lower myself onto him.

Once we were joined, I continued to move. I sat up and leaned back, grinding my hips, gathering my hair out of the way of my face, pulling it all over my shoulder as best as I could. Tom's hands brushed down my sides, stopping at my hips, guiding my movements.

I covered his large hands with my own and removed them, lifting his arms up, placing them above his head. Our fingers intertwined and I rocked against him harder, picking up speed. 

Tom grunted, his eyes gleaming. I felt the heat of an orgasm growing and I kept going, desperate to see his face as I came undone.

"You're so flushed, Christine. It's fucking gorgeous."

My lips parted and I moaned. I fell forward, my head on his shoulder. He let go of my hands and held onto my hips, lifting his own, forcing me to ride out my orgasm. He wrestled me to my back as quickly as he could and kissed me, bringing me back. He pressed himself in and fucked me, tensing and grunting until he spilled. He continued to ride into me, breathing heavily, coming down from his high.

He crashed next to me, pulling me to him again and together we held each other, satiated and content. 

The sun had gone down and the night air had grown cooler. The noises of the lake lulled us to sleep, the warmth of each other all we needed.

It was pitch black when my eyes opened again. I felt Tom holding me, but he had moved further down. His head rested on my stomach and I gently ran my fingers through his hair. My eyes adjusted and I looked down at him. That annoying and nagging sense of familiarity hit again. I have a photograph of this. Of Tom, his head against my stomach, his lips kissing my belly.

My heart raced with the memory.


	17. Chapter 17

THEN

Sitting on the floor of the attic, with the Polaroids spread out in front of me, I picked one up and gently dragged a finger over the image of Tom smiling for me. He loved to make strange faces and I had finally taken one of a natural happy smile. Knowing it was because he was making me giggle made this picture extra special to me. I placed it back down and picked up another. I sighed happily at the image of his head on my stomach.

I felt a slight rumble and panicked. The garage door was going up; Jack was home. I had lost track of time, once again. I scooped up all the photographs and tossed them back into the box, locking it. I picked up a box of old books and placed it on top and then hid the key on top of a nearby beam before climbing down the ladder. As quietly as I could, I pushed the folding ladder back up, shutting the door into the ceiling. The cord swung erratically and I rested my hand steadily next to it until it no longer moved.

"Chrissy?"

I bolted to the bedroom and then the bathroom and closed the door, locking it. I knew he wasn't going to be happy with me.

I waited, knowing he'd come find me.

He knocked, startling me, even though I was prepared. "Chrissy? Can you come out?"

"One minute," I answered, trying to calm down. My nerves were shot.

He knocked again, harder. "Now, Christine!"

I unlocked the door and it flew open, nearly knocking me off my feet. I caught myself against the sink. Jack walked in, his face stern.

"Where were you?" He demanded. 

I had fallen asleep at Tom's tangled in his bedsheets with his lips pressed to my forehead. I'd been so tired lately. It was purely accidental that I missed the luncheon for Jack's partnership at work. When I had woken up, the immediate sense of dread was almost unbearable. I knew I'd have to face his wrath. I didn't tell Tom. He worried about me enough as it was. Scrolling through text after text from Jack on my phone, which had been buried away in my purse, I quickly left and headed home.

I spent hours deciding what to do. I needed to figure out a way to make it acceptable. I wasn't ready to tell him the truth, but he'd find out on his own, sooner than later. I wouldn't be able to hide it much longer.

Jack and I made love for the first time in months a few weeks ago. We had to. Even though I detested his touch, I had swallowed my feelings and played the role of happy housewife, despite the bruises on my hips and shoulders. He forced me down on him, holding me by the hair. My eyes teared up as I tried to swallow back the gags. 

"Please, Jack," I'd shoved him away as a sob arose, hating myself. "I want you to come in me."

"Then open your fucking mouth," he grumbled.

I shook my head, quickly wiping away a tear. "No, not like that. *In me."

Realizing what I had meant, he stepped back and grabbed my arm, pulling me up to my feet. "Turn around," he had ordered me.

I bent forward, resting on the bed, letting him grab me by the hips, pulling me in place. I heard him spit on his hand before he stuck his fingers in, pumping into me twice before removing his hand, replacing it with his cock.

I had squeezed my eyes closed, feeling ashamed. He came quickly, much to my relief. Pulling out, he fell to the bed next to me, breathing heavily. 

"Been a while since we've done that. Think I prefer your mouth." He had muttered under his breath.

I'd pushed myself up, feeling shaky. Without a word, I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Standing under the stream of hot water, I let it wash over me, choking back my sobs, tears pouring down my face.

And now, Jack was angry after weeks of me doing my best to keep him happy. With his threats constantly on my mind, I didn't just have myself to worry about. 

"Well?!" Jack asked again, impatiently. "Where the fuck were you?! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to sit at a table surrounded by my colleagues with your name place next to mine, only to not have my wife with me?!"

I stumbled over my words. I knew what I was going to say, I had been practicing it over and over, being sure to say it perfectly, in such a way that the desire to backhand me across the cheek would disappear immediately, but when he grew angry, he towered over me completely, like a bear. He was tall and slender, but he was strong. Even after months of learning to fight back, I could only do so much. 

The first time I had blocked a swing and hit him in defense nearly cost me my life. I had woken up in bed, my head pounding, the area between my thighs feeling raw. I never again tried to fight back. My only defense was compliance in hopes that he'd be gentle.

Tom had threatened to kill him, many times, but then where would we be? Separated by bars. And I would be even more alone than I already was. I had no one, no where to go, no one else to turn to. Not even the law enforcement in this town could help me. Jack's firm spent a lot of money helping out with their charities. I knew, in their eyes, Jack could do no wrong. He was a dirty lawyer who helped defend dirty cops. I was shit out of luck.

I held up my hands, palms facing him. "I'm having a baby," I spat out quickly before he could raise his hand.

The tense strain between his eyebrows softened and he blinked, uncertain of what he heard. "You're... pregnant?"

"Yes."

"What? How far along?"

"Um, six weeks? Six weeks and two days." It was a lie, but I had to time it to match up. When I first went to the the doctor, I was already six weeks along. And that was three weeks ago.

Jack reached out and I flinched out of habit. He pulled me in, hugging me. "Christine, we're having a baby?" He was surprised, but at least he appeared happy.

I nodded and smiled, screaming in anguish inside, not wanting to pretend it was his. 

But he'd kill me. He'd kill me, he'd kill my baby, and I had no doubt he'd kill Tom too. Not only that, but he'd get away with it. 

"I missed the luncheon because I was at the doctor's office," I lied again. "I'm so sorry I missed it, I didn't mean to, it slipped my mind because I was so nervous about being pregnant and--"

"Chris, Chrissy, sweetheart," Jack shushed me. "I forgive you. Don't get worked up." He held me back by the shoulders at arm's length and studied me. "I'm so fucking happy," he beamed.

I forced a smile. "Um, the doctor mentioned I need to take it easy," I explained. This part was harder to get out. How to tell Jack he needed to cease taking his anger out on his wife without upsetting him? More lies. Anything to stroke his ego, anything to not make him appear to be anything less than amazing. "Given my medical history, I need to take it easy, no more running, no engaging in anything intense. For the baby."

"Of course, no running."

"He's a funny guy," I laughed nervously. "He noticed a bruise on my hip, which I guess I got bumping into a table, but he joked we'd have to take it easy with sex."

Jack removed his hands from me and gave me a curt smile. "Right." He scratched his temple before crossing his arms. "Your doctor's a man?"

My brows raised. "Yes. Doctor Reinhardt. He's about sixty or so."

"Oh. I'd like to come with you to your appointment next time."

A million alarms sounded in my head. I feared he'd say something like that. I couldn't let him join me or he'd know the truth, he'd know I lied about how far along I really was. He'd know.

"Oh sure." 

He pulled me back into his arms. I'd deal with that bridge as I crossed it.

For now, I would do whatever it took to keep my baby safe.


	18. Chapter 18

NOW 

I had to leave Jack.  It wasn't fair to him, to be with him when I was in love with someone else.  Maybe once upon a time, yes, I was in love with Jack.  But that clearly wasn't the case anymore.  

Tom needed to be back at Curly's by noon and left in the morning.  I already had a driver lined up to take me back but that wasn't until 2.  I didn't want to prolong the inevitable.  I was anxious to head back home, to talk to Jack and hopefully amicably split.  If he was still in love with Grace, this whole disaster could be a blessing in disguise.  

Less hopeful than I, Tom warned me to stay on my guard.  He made me nervous, the way he worried.  Jack hadn't laid a hand on me since the accident, so it was hard to believe that he ever was rough with me.  Even so, if he was, perhaps he turned over a new leaf.  Maybe my accident flipped a switch in him; another blessing in disguise.

After spending the morning on the beach, soaking up the sun and reading more of Wuthering Heights, I ate lunch at Cubby's before packing everything up.  I was ready to go before the driver showed up.  

Returning the book to the small library, Diane asked if I had finished it already.  I told her that I hadn't and she insisted that I keep it.  I thanked Diane for everything and promised to leave a glowing review for the Lazy Cloud on Yelp.  

Before Tom had left, I had walked him to his car.  He leaned against the door of the car and pulled me by my waist to him, planting a kiss on my lips.  "Keep your phone on you."

"I will.  I promise.  But I'm sure it'll be fine."

Tom had frowned, "Even so... keep your phone on you.  Call me.  And if you can't --"

"And if I can't, I'll text SOS so you know I need you."  I thought he was being silly, a little overprotective.  But it was sweet.

Tom shook his head and hugged me tighter.  "I really should be there.  At least waiting outside."

"No, that could make it worse.  It'll be okay, I promise.  We'll talk, I'll pack a few things, and come to your house."

"If you could remember, Christine," he'd sighed, stopping himself before he said the wrong thing.

"If I could remember what?"

He pushed off the car and cleared his throat, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.  "He's a liar.  And a very good one.  I would have never known he hurt you if I'd never seen you naked, Christine.  Those bruises were not accidental."

I had moved away, out of his reach.  "Don't.  Don't fill my head with your own memories."

He held up his hands and apologized.  "You're right.  I'm sorry.  But please, be careful."

I spent the car ride home finishing Wuthering Heights, appreciating Diane's kind gesture.  Losing myself in Brontë's words meant I didn't have to second guess myself or what I had planned to do once I returned home.

As the landscapes became familiar, a sense of dread began to build up in my chest.  But I was ready.  I had a second chance at life and I didn't want to waste it anymore than I already had.

 

•••

 

Carrying my bag into the kitchen through the laundry room, a vase of flowers on the counter caught my eye.  They were pink peonies and they were gorgeous.  I knew they were from Jack and I frowned.  This was going to be harder than I thought.  

Jack came bounding down the stairs, beaming.  "Hey gorgeous.  How was your weekend?"  He crossed the kitchen floor and embraced me.

I placed a hand on his chest and turned my head so that his lips landed on my cheek.  

"It was nice.  I read a lot and sat in the sun."

If my rejection bothered him, he didn't show it.  He took my bag and turned to the stairs.  "I'll help you unpack.  I want to hear about your trip."

He went halfway up before stopping once he realized I wasn't following.  "Coming?"

I took a deep breath and smiled, following then.

Jack tossed my bag to the bed and unzipped it.  Flipping it open, my wedding ring fell out of the pouch I had placed it in for safe keeping.  Jack picked it up.

"Why aren't you wearing this?"

"Oh, I took it off when I went to the lake.  I didn't want to risk losing it."

Jack looked back down at the ring and nodded once.  "Well, here."  He held it out and I took it from him.

I didn't place it on my finger.  I felt frozen in place.  I suddenly knew this was not going to work out in my favor.  Because I had done this before, or tried to.  

I suddenly remembered knocking him back in surprise and crawling quickly to the door.  He grabbed me by my ankle, digging his nails into my skin to inflict pain before yanking me back.  He flipped me on my back, my head hitting the floor hard.  

"Chris?" Jack stood there, waiting for a reply.

I gasped, the ring in my hand.  It was now or never.

"I'm leaving you."  Screw niceties.  Screw making him understand.  Screw wanting to end it amicably.  

My heart pounded and I could physically feel it about to burst out of my chest.  It hurt.  A lump the size of a golf ball grew in my throat and my mouth was dry, making it hard to swallow.  

The look on Jack's face, the way he scoffed and smirked, like it was a joke, had me reaching for my phone in my back pocket.  I didn't pull it out, I just made sure it was definitely there.  I placed my hand on my pocket, feeling it, relieved I didn't tuck it away in my purse which I had left in the laundry room between the garage and the kitchen.

"Excuse me?" Jack cocked his head, narrowing his eyes.

"We don't love each other."  I cleared my throat and loosened up.  "What are we doing?"

"You don't love me?"

"Come on Jack, you don't love me either."

He closed the distance between us and my hand went back to my back pocket as I stepped away to keep from colliding with him.  "I don't love you?!  I'm sorry, but what exactly makes you feel like I don't love you?  I've been nothing but perfect to you since your accident!"

His eyes were wild and they scared me.  Somehow he had widened his stance, appearing larger as he screamed in my face.  I began shaking, feeling shocked by his behavior.  

"Jack," I scolded him, moving away, crossing the room to leave more space between us, keeping my hand on my phone.

"God dammit, Chrissy.  I knew I should have gone with you.  I almost drove up there, but no.  I respected your privacy, I respect your wishes and did what you asked of me.  And now you want to leave me??  Again?!"

"I _did_ leave you before, didn't I," I asked, already realizing the truth.  I had but I couldn't remember when or why I was still with him.

Jack laughed darkly.  I regretted moving further away from the door.  He was blocking it now.  "You tried.  You don't remember?"

"Jack," I said softly, trying to remain calm.  He was already upset and I didn't want to make it worse.  "I don't want to hurt you, please believe me."

"You don't hurt me, Chrissy.  Don't worry."  He placed a hand over his chest with mock sincerity.  "Now get your hand off your fucking phone."

I dropped my hands to my side.  "You're scaring me," I confessed.

"You make me this way."

"Then why are we together??  Jack, if I make you angry, why are you with me?  You slept around with Grace and who knows who else!  You do NOT love me!  If you think you do, then that's fucked up, Jack!"

"Shut the fuck up!  Oh my god, your voice!  Whine whine whine!"  He stepped toward me quickly, grasping my wrist before I could reach for my phone again.  

He was so fast, I dropped the ring in surprise.  I pulled my arm back but he had a good grip on it.  He yanked me hard and I fell forward into him.

Jack pressed his face into mine.  "For better or worse, Christine.  Till death do us part."  He pushed me back, disgusted.

I wiped his spit from my face and pulled my phone out, launching myself into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.  I pressed my entire body to the door as I locked it.  Pulling my phone out, I nearly dropped it, my hands were shaking so hard.  I moved away from the door and I sent a text to Tom, the whoosh of it sending making a sob escape my lips.

The bathroom door unlocked and I turned to see Jack open it.  He reached up and placed the lock pick back up on the doorframe before walking in.

"I've changed, Chrissy.  But you couldn't see it.  I guess it doesn't matter what I do.  It doesn't make a difference.  Mean, nice.  Doesn't matter."  His voice was calm.

"Please," my voice cracked, tears welling in my eyes.  I held up my hands, holding my phone between us.

"Did you call him?"

I looked down at my phone and back up again.  "W-what?  Who?"

"Who?" He mocked me, fake sobbing.  "Your fucking lover.  Tom."

I swallowed hard, more tears falling.  "Jack, please, let's talk," I dropped my hands and was about to put my phone back into my pocket when he reached for it, faster than I was.

My phone fell hard against the bathroom tile, the screen shattering.  My hand twisted back under his pressure.

"Talk?  So you can continue to lie to my face?  No, sweetheart.  It's done.  I almost lost you once.  Let's relive that moment, shall we?  Maybe you need the refresher.  I'm mean, sure you do.  Your memory is shit lately."

He pulled me with him out of the bathroom and I yelped as he shoved me to the floor.  Just like he had done before, he flipped me to my back, pounding my head back hard.  I bit my tongue at the impact and tasted blood.

Jack muttered, hovering over me.  As my sight came back, the stars fading, he straddled me, pinning me to the floor.  He ran his nose up my jaw and I jerked my face away, scowling.

"Your accident was the perfect opportunity for us.  To start over.  I had a second chance to make things right.  I knew I should have killed him when I had the chance.  But fuck, he's family," Jack laughed.  "Even if I killed him, I would never be rid of him.  Trish would probably build a shrine for him in his memory.  You know how dramatic she likes to be," he laughed, shaking his head.

I coughed, struggling against his hands holding mine down, having difficulty breathing with his weight on me.  

"Let's continue, okay babe?"  He pushed himself off of me, standing to his full height.  "Get up."

I coughed and and rolled to my side before pushing up on all fours.  I shook my head, trying to clear it.  As I sat back on my knees, Jack kicked me in the back and I flew forward, the carpet leaving a burn on my forearm as I tried to catch myself.

Kicking back, I hit him hard in the shin and crawled toward the door to get away.

"Fucking bitch," he growled as he grabbed the door and swung it on me, hitting me in the shoulder.  

I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the stairs but he caught up and snatched me by the hair.  The pain shooting across my scalp made me scream.  My hands went to his and clawed at his fingers for release.  

He pulled me back and pressed his lips to my ear.  "Remember this?"  And with that, he pushed me down the stairs.


	19. Chapter 19

THEN

It felt like it was raining, except it wasn't wet. My eyes fluttered open. I was at the bottom of the stairs, thankfully all of my limbs intact. I moved but my body felt so sore. My hands went to my belly, praying the baby was okay.

Jack sat on the bottom step, a box in his lap. He was looking at a Polaroid photo, then tossed it before picking up another one, doing the same. I glanced around, noticing a few on me and around me. 

"I like this one. It's sweet. He seems loving." Jack didn't look at me. He tossed it like frisbee and it landed next to my head. 

My breathing was fast and deep. It was like I couldn't get enough air, like I'd been held under water, nearly drowning. The wind had been knocked out of me.

I looked around for anything I could use. Anything. The kitchen was behind me. If I could just get up, I could grab the keys off the rack and run. I sobbed knowing it was useless. Jack was too fast. Unless I could somehow stop him, it wasn't happening.

"Aw, Daddy is kissing the baby belly. Sweet." He discarded the photograph in the same manner he did the others.

"Jack," I whimpered, rolling to my side, gathering my wits. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"You just did, sweetheart." He slammed the box closed and smiled. "I just assumed, when I found these."

I groaned, lifting myself up. Moving slowly, I crawled toward the kitchen. Jack watched, amused. 

"I thought I was a coward for fucking Grace behind your back," he sighed. "But at least I understand how protection works."

I reached the cabinet below the sink. As Jack stood, placing the box of photographs on the stairs, I panicked, pulling the cabinet door open.

"What are you doing?" He chuckled, walking toward me.

I grabbed the first thing I could get ahold of and jumped up to my feet, pain screaming through my back. 

Spraying the can of disinfectant into Jack's eyes, I kneed him with as much power as I could physically muster. Jack cried out, turning away, hands covering his eyes. He gritted his teeth, cursing me out. I threw the can at him and turned to the keys hanging by the door. I grabbed my key ring and ran.

In the garage I jumped into my car and opened the garage door, shoving the key into the ignition. The car roared to life and I threw it into reverse, peeling out. Backing out of the driveway, I shifted the gear to drive and looked back at the house. Jack ran into the garage with his keys.

"Christine!" He hollered.

I whimpered and took off, praying to whoever was listening that Jack didn't know where Tom lived. It was raining, and hard. The wipers flipped back and forth, clearing the windshield of the sheets of water.

Turning carefully down the street, I watched in the rear view mirror, anticipating Jack's headlights. Between my tears and the rain, it was hard to see clearly. 

The darkness behind me was suddenly interrupted by the harsh glow of headlights. I pressed down on the gas terrified of Jack catching up. I stared ahead in terror at the stop sign coming up. I slowed just enough to be sure there was no traffic at the crossroads and ran through the stop, watching Jack from the mirror.

I had to lose him, otherwise he'd follow me straight to Tom's. Then what? He'd kill me before he let me step foot into his house.

Ignoring my destination, I focused on getting away from Jack. If I could get over the bridge fast enough and turn on Main Street, the extra traffic could make it easier to ditch him. The engine roared as I pressed down further on the gas pedal.

The lights behind me grew brighter. I became hysteric and angry. Angry at Jack, angry at myself for waiting so long. I drifted toward the middle of the road, eager to keep him behind me. If he passed me, I knew he'd stop and trap me somehow. What I didn't expect was for Jack to bump me from behind. 

The car fishtailed as I gripped the steering wheel, desperate to gain control. I hit the gas again, seeing the bridge straight ahead. Jack gained on me and bumped me again. This time, I lost control as the car spun along the wet asphalt. I held onto the steering wheel, gasping as the car flew off the side of the road just before the bridge. It didn't matter how hard I stomped on the brakes. Nothing was stopping me from going over. Nothing but the tree I smashed into. 

Lights out.


	20. Chapter 20

NOW

"Christine," a loud voice boomed into my brain. My eyes were closed and I didn't want to open them. 

I squeezed them closed tighter and the voice hit me again. My head was throbbing. I tried to stretch, my joints feeling achy, but stopped when I realized I was in pain.

A hand touched my face, gently. Another hand on my shoulder gave me a cautious shake.

I opened my eyes, my sight blurry. I blinked hard, trying to focus. Tom was knelt beside me, breathing heavily, his eyes looking angry.

"Tom?" I cleared my throat and tried to move.

He helped me sit up. "We need to get out of here," he said with clarity. I followed his eyes, turning to look behind me. 

Jack was on the kitchen floor, the vase on the counter now shattered around him, peonies surrounding his head. 

I reached up and felt my head as Tom helped me to stand. "What happened?" Forcing the words out, I felt my throat and coughed.

"Shh, let's get out of here first, come on," he took my hand and we carefully stepped over Jack.

It took everything I had not to kick him in the balls while he was down. But that was his style, not mine. 

Tom coaxed me out of the house, through the garage. We ran down the driveway to the side of the road where he was parked. I gasped at the body hunched over the sidewalk. It was a large man, but I couldn't make out who. I gawped at Tom and he ignored both me and the man shallowly breathing on the ground. He helped me into his car and we left.

"Are you okay? Christine!" He snapped at me as I stared out the window, watching the neighboring houses along the street as we passed them, envious of how normal their lives seemed to be. Televisions on, dinner at the table; normal loving families.

I turned, facing Tom as he gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were bloody. Only then did I really look at him. A small cut on his cheekbone glistened with the sparse lighting of the street lamps outside.

"What happened? Are you okay??" I gingerly touched his cheek.

"Me? Christine, are _you_?"

"I think so. He threw me down the stairs," I shook, shuddering at the memory of what just happened, the way Jack had turned into a complete monster. "Next thing I know, you're waking me up. What happened, Tom?"

"I could have killed him, Christine," he growled, squeezing the steering wheel tighter. "I should have fucking killed him! I was outside, and I know you didn't want me out there, but I knew I had to be there, okay? So don't start scolding me for not listening to you. You needed me and I knew it, so there." He glanced at me to make sure I wouldn't object. "I sat in the car and waited for a text from you when Grizz came knocking on the window. You remember Grizz?"

I nodded, recollecting Tom sparring with him at Curly's. 

"I rolled down the window and the bastard grabs me, pulling me out, trying to knock me out."

"What?! Why?"

Tom shrugged, angrily. "Only thing I can think is Jack hired him to keep an eye on me or get rid of me," he scoffed before he continued. "I heard my phone, knowing you texted me and needed me. I took care of Grizz and ran inside to find Jack choking you at the bottom of the stairs."

My hand went to my neck. That explained why it felt sore. 

"I pulled him off you and he grabbed a fucking knife. I thought you were dead, Christine, you just laid there, lifeless." He punched the dashboard, breathing hard.

I placed a hand on his arm, keeping him steady. "We're okay," my voice cracked.

Sammy welcomed us home with jumps and kisses. Tom winced and pushed him off, harder than he meant to. He placed a hand over his side and went into the kitchen. I pat Sammy's head and followed. Sammy circled the bottom of the stairs, barking.

"We need to call the police," I began. I watched Tom as he grabbed a kitchen towel and held it to his side. Only then did I notice the blood. In the darkness, it was hard to see. Now under the light of the small kitchen, the red smears across his white shirt screamed. "Tom! Were you stabbed?!"

I rushed toward him, holding a hand to his, adding pressure. He hissed, gritting his teeth. "Fucker stuck me. I need stitches."

"I need your phone, Tommy, where's your phone?" 

With his free hand he reached into his pocket and pulled it out. I dialed 9-1-1 and as calmly as I could explained we needed help. The dispatcher promised an ambulance was on its way along with the police. 

I hung up and placed Tom's phone on the counter, then returned my hand to his side, the blood soaking through the rag already. Frantically, I looked around the kitchen and grabbed another towel, applying it.

Tom's breathing was shallow, but he watched my face as I focused on his side. "You called me 'Tommy.'" A small smile formed and for a second I had forgotten all about the wound between us, the soaked rag, and the fact that Jack had not only stabbed him, but had tried to kill me.

A memory came to me, of Tom and I in bed. We were naked and I was draped over his chest, the sheets barely covering our legs. He caressed my lower back with his fingers, whispering into my hair. 

"What about Chrissy for a girl?"

I groaned and hugged him tighter. "Absolutely not."

"You don't like your own name?" Tom chuckled.

I looked up at him, placing my chin on his chest. "Jack calls me Chrissy and I hate it. The sound of it, everything about it. He's ruined it for me. That's why I asked that you call me Christine."

"Hmm." He ran his hands through my hair. "Okay, no to Chrissy."

I hummed and replaced my cheek to his heart, relaxing to its rhythm, enjoying our conversation of possible baby names for future children. "What about Tommy for a boy?"

"Absolutely not," he imitated me. 

I let out a small chuckle. "And why not?"

"Because that's what you call me. It's mine and no one else's."

I blinked hard, returning to Tom in the kitchen, our hands pressed to his side. Despite the currently situation we found ourselves in, I always enjoyed recovering memories of the two of us. 

Carefully, I stood on my toes and kissed him. "You saved me," I said gratefully.

"I wasn't about to lose you again," he sighed against me, pressing his forehead to mine. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I think so."

Sammy joined us in the kitchen and nudged Tom's hand. Tom pat his head until Sammy pulled away, his ears perking up. He let out a bark and then stormed out of the kitchen. 

We both turned our heads in the direction he took off. "Sampson!" Tom shouted after him.

"Maybe it's help?" I looked back at Tom, already knowing the answer.

His chest rose higher with each breath and his jaw clenched. He shook his head. "Stay here." He took a step and I reached out.

"No!" I grasped him by the arm, the bloodied rags falling to the floor. "No, stay, please, don't leave me," I begged him.

He glanced back at me, his eyes softening. "Stay behind me." I nodded, agreeing.

Together we walked out of the kitchen, my hand in his as I stayed behind him. 

"Sammy?" Tom looked around as we entered the living area. The dog was nowhere to be seen. 

We stopped and listened, Sammy's nails clacking against the floors upstairs. I placed a hand on Tom's back and we both sighed, relieved. 

A flash of light came through the window next to the front door. Tom tugged the curtain back and then just as quickly, dropped it back in place. A car had pulled up the drive, the headlights blinding us from making out the driver.

"Tom?" My heart was beating so fast. "Is it the police?"

He grunted before replying. "No. Go upstairs. Get in my room and lock the door. Make sure Sammy's with you."

I shook my head, tugging his hand once. "No, I'm not leaving you."

Tom turned to face me. "The police will be here soon, alright? Nothing is going to happen. I'll be fine, just go."

Tom led me to the bottom of the stairs and planted a small kiss on my lips. "I'll be up in a minute, I promise."

Feeling defeated, I let him have his way and left him, following Sampson to the upstairs bedroom. Sammy had jumped on the bed and stood there, watching as I came in. His tail wagged and his breathing was fast. He barked once and jumped off the bed, running into the bathroom.

I took one last look down the hall, wishing Tom was making his way up the stairs to join me. Wishing he wasn't bleeding and that we could just climb into bed and fall asleep in each other's arms until the sun rose. Realizing he wasn't on his way up already I closed the door and locked it, backing away to sit on the edge of the bed.

Not even a minute had passed when I heard shouting from downstairs. I knew Tom could handle himself but he was hurt, badly. What if he needed me?

I stood to run to the door when, from the corner of my eye, I saw a figure emerge from the bathroom, slamming the bathroom door closed then reaching for me. I cried out in surprise and raised my hands to fight back. 

Grace, with her eyes wide and her teeth bared in anger, picked up the lamp on the bedside table and swung it my way, attempting to hit me across the head. I ducked, nearly tripping over poor Sampson. She chucked the lamp at me, hitting me hard below the neck. The impact sent me forward, catching myself along the dresser and the lamp crashed to the floor.

I quickly recovered and turned, readying myself for her. She had picked up the base of the now broken lamp and wrapped the power cord around my neck. I swatted at her face, desperate to loosen her grip on me. I drove the heel of my palm hard against her nose and she dropped the broken base, the cord unraveling from my neck.

Blood dripped from her nose as she looked at the small pool she caught in her cupped hands. "You bitch!" She groaned as she shot her eyes back up at me.

"What the fuck, Grace?" I hadn't seen her since the party but it wasn't for a lack of trying. 

"It's the only way, Chrissy," she hissed through the pain. 

Her bloodied hands reached for me again. She snatched the shoulder of my shirt as I dodged her, tearing it. I knocked her hand away and pushed her back. Without waiting, I rushed toward the bathroom door, letting the growling Sampson out. He slipped past me in a streak of golden fur and sank his teeth into Grace's ankle. 

Grace hollered a stream of profanities, kicking the dog away as best as she could. While Sammy held her back, I made a run for the bedroom door, unlocking it. 

My heart nearly stopped as I ran straight into the arms of Jack, blood caked down the side of his face. He gripped me by the elbows and tossed me backwards, back into the bedroom. Sammy released Grace and stepped between me and Jack, baring his teeth, snarling. He haunched down, ready to leap the second Jack took a step forward.

"Where's Tom?" I cried, fearing the worst.

Keeping his eyes on Sampson, Jack answered, "Bleeding out on the rug downstairs. Shame really. Beautiful rug."

I climbed to my feet, ready to fight. 

"Call off the damn dog, Chrissy." Jack brought his eyes to mine, staring from under his dark lashes.

Grace held herself up against the dresser, lifting her ankle to check for any damage.

"No," I said confidently. I looked forward to Sampson tearing out Jack's throat.

Jack reached behind him, pulling a gun out from the band of his jeans and pointed it at the dog.

"Sammy," I quickly said, my heart sinking. "Come." Slowly, I side stepped toward the bathroom, snapping my finger for him to follow. I pointed into the bathroom and Sammy obeyed. I closed the door, keeping my eyes on Jack and the gun.

"Good girl," Jack smirked, lowering the gun.

"Jackie, I'm really hurt," Grace whined. She hobbled to the edge of the bed and sat, bringing her ankle to her knee to inspect it.

Jack took a look at Grace and lifted his gun again, this time pulling back the trigger.

I screamed before the shot was fired. Grace jerked violently, blood spraying over the comforter of Tom's bed, and fell back. A dark crimson pool surrounded her head, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.


	21. Chapter 21

NOW

Jack sneezed as he pressed the barrel of the gun against my back.  I held my hands out in front of me like he told me to as we walked slowly down the stairs.  Once both our feet reached the first floor, he gripped me by the back of my neck and guided me towards the kitchen.  Tom was curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace.  I stared at him, willing him to move, to do anything.  I exhaled sharply, noticing the rise and fall of his back as he breathed, relieved he was still alive.

Pushing me into the kitchen, Jack kept the gun pointed at me.  He began to open the cabinet drawers, rifling through their contents.  He found what he was looking for, lifting up a roll of duct tape, beaming.  

"Perfect," he winked.  "Here.  Let's go tape up your boyfriend before he comes to."

I knelt in front of Tom and touched his face.  He didn't stir under my touch and I knew I wouldn't be able to lift him to the couch like Jack had wanted me to.  

Jack wagged the gun towards the other end of the couch and demanded me to sit.  I stood and moved to the end of the couch, doing as he asked, wondering where the hell the police were.  Keeping his eyes on me, he tucked the gun into the back of his pants and bent down to lift Tom.

Tom groaned as he was moved from the ground to the couch.  He sat back and his head lolled to the side.  Jack pulled his gun back out and motioned me over.

"Tape up his legs and hands.  Hurry."

"Jack," I scoffed, "We've already called the police.  They're on their way, they'll be here any minute."

Jack cocked his head to the side.  "Sweetheart, I own the police," he chuckled.  "You don't have to worry about a thing.  It'll all work out.  Now come on, let's go."

Cautiously, I stood and moved toward Tom, pulling out some of the tape.  I knelt down and started with his legs.  Making sure my back was to Jack, I tried to pinch the back of Tom's leg, to rouse him from his sleep, but he didn't even flinch.  I stared at the knife wound in his side as I completed the taping, wrapping it around his legs five times.

"Good," Jack observed.  "Now his wrists.  Tightly."

"Jack," I turned back.  "You don't need to do th—"

"Now, Chrissy!"

I huffed and did as he commanded, bounding Tom's hands by his wrists.  When I tore the tape from the roll, Tom's eyes finally peered open.  

I cupped his cheek and smiled, nearly crying with happiness that he was okay.  He smiled back, then fully coming to, his eyes widened and he tried to jump up.  

"Christine," his eyes darted between me and Jack.  "Leave her alone," he scowled.

"Tape his mouth, Chrissy."

I stood and shook my head.  "Jack, we're wasting time.  Let's just leave.  Let's just go and get out of here before the cops show up."

Jack considered what I was saying, blinking in disbelief.  "Tape his mouth, now."

"You didn't have to kill Grace," I swallowed.  I looked at Tom, terrified that he'd be next.  Grace had been dismissed so easily without a thought.  What would keep Jack from putting a bullet in Tom's head?

I ripped off a piece and bent over Tom, pressing it over his lips.  Tom furrowed his brow and still tried to stand, even bound.  The injury to his side prevented him from completing his task and he hissed, the pain unbearable.  

"Stop moving, Tom," I told him.  I turned back to Jack.  "Now what.  What's your big plan?  They'll be here any moment.  What are you even planning to say to them?  What will you tell them when they find Grace upstairs with a hole in her head?!"  My voice grew louder with each sentence.

Jack walked around the couch, ending up behind Tom.  I kept my eyes on the gun as he lifted it to Tom's head, pressing it to his temple.  Tom flinched and I lifted my hands.

"Stop it!"

"We'll worry about the cops when they get here.  But until then, let's play a little game.  Let's remind Tom whose you are."

I shivered, not liking the sound of that, but if I could stall him until help arrived, I'd do it.  

Jack continued.  "Remove your jeans."

My lips parted, my breathing shallow.  "What?"

"You heard me."  He pressed the gun harder against Tom.  Tom jerked his head away, angrily.

"Fine."  I kicked my shoes off, then unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pushing them down my legs.  I stepped out and kicked them aside, swallowing hard.

"Good.  Now unbutton your blouse.  Slowly."

We both stared at each other, Jack and I.  I was growing angry but there wasn't much I could do about it with that gun in his hand.  I swallowed my pride and reached for the first button, undoing it.

"Slowly," he reminded me.

I sucked in air and continued down my blouse.  "Now what."

"Take it off."

"Jack."

He raised his brow at me and I gritted my teeth.  I shrugged out of the blouse and let it fall.  I stood there, exposed, save for my bra, panties, and socks. I didn't bother to cover myself up with my hands.  What was the point?  I'd been in sexual relationships with both of these men - they'd already seen everything.  I kept my hands to my side, knowing Jack would just love for me to cower and cover myself, uncomfortably.

Jack hummed appreciatively.  "Ain't she gorgeous?"  He bent down so that his head was right next to Tom's.  "Except for that ugly scar, unfortunately.  Oof.  I'm sorry, but I've got an erection.  How about you, Tommy boy?"  He slapped a hand on Tom's shoulder and stood back up.

I grimaced and covered my scar with my hand.  "You sick fuck," I uttered under my breath, almost laughing at how ridiculous this was.

"I think it's pretty obvious you've remembered a thing or two about Tom.  But how much, exactly?  Hmm?  I'm curious."

Tom dropped his chin to his chest and looked up at me, watching.  Jack came back to the front of the couch, the gun still pointed at Tom.  He crossed behind me and scooped my hair to the side, draping it over my shoulder.  I shivered against his touch as his free hand wrapped around me, his fingers sprawling across my stomach.  He rested it there and pressed his lips against my exposed neck.  Instinctively, I shrugged him off but he pressed me back against him, stilling me.

"Move and he dies."

My breathing shuddered.  I felt my eyes welling up, a fat tear falling onto my cheek.

"Shh, baby, don't cry," Jack cooed against me, rubbing his nose against the outer shell of my ear.  "We're going to fix this, okay?"

I didn't reply. I kept my eyes forward, looking at Tom.

Jack took my chin in his hand and pulled my face to him.  "I'm sorry about Grace.  Hey, look at me, look at me, Chrissy.  Tommy's fine.  Look at me."

I brought my eyes to Jack, but I saw Tom's face instead, the same memory from earlier resurfacing.

"What about Tommy for a boy?" I asked Tom, snuggling tighter against him.

"Absolutely not," he teased me, mocking my earlier answer.

I let out a small chuckle.  "And why not?"

"Because that's what you call me.  It's mine, and no one else's.. not even this little one's," he purred, cupping my belly with his large hand.  

I sighed against him and covered his hand with my own, not caring what we named our child.

Jack's face came back into view and I gasped for breath as I reach down to my bare stomach.  I looked down, then over to Tom, my mouth falling open but no sound escaping.  

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Jack asked.

Tom's eyes narrowed, his brows snapping together in concern.

I stumbled back, gasping.

"No," I shook my head.  "No."  I looked back to Tom.  "I was pregnant?"

Tom eyes softened and again he tried to move, sitting up more.  

Jack lifted the gun higher.  "Eh-eh, you sit the fuck down."

I turned away from the both of them, shaking.

Jack placed a hand on my shoulder and I brushed it off.  "Don't touch me," I growled, turning on my heels of my socked feet.

"The baby?" The sting of tears flooded my eyes as I looked at Tom, keeping my distance from Jack.

Tom slowly shook his head.  I whipped my head toward Jack.  He looked bored.  He sighed slowly and shrugged.

"Maybe it'd be here if you'd just done the right thing," he frowned.

"What?" I shook my head in utter disbelief.

"It died when you crashed, Chrissy.  The doctors tried to save it, they cut it out of you, but it was too late.  You killed that baby."

Tom stood then, struggling to straighten, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring over the silver tape across his lips.  

Switching hands, Jack pointed the gun in my direction.  "Going to hop your way over here and save the day, Tommy boy?  Sit your ass back down."

"You're not going to shoot me," I challenged him, standing straight, my heart pounding.

Jack smirked and lowered the gun.  "But I will shoot him.  I killed Grace, you certainly know I'm capable."

"I know.  But if you shoot Tom, I will never forgive you."

Tom sat back down, carefully, his eyes darting between the two of us.  Jack returned the gun in Tom's direction.

"Don't really care.  You just have to be mine.  At this point I couldn't care less if you actually loved me.  As long as Tom is around, I'll never have your heart again.  If I kill him, I still won't win you back, not immediately.  But with time..."

I scoffed.  "It'll never happen Jack.  I was leaving you... I don't understand, you screwed around with Grace!  If you love me so much, why?"

"You don't get it, Chrissy!"  He was growing angry, shaking the gun.  "I made a mistake, I cheated on you, yes, but I ended it!  She," he pointed to the ceiling with the gun, "Grace, was the one who wouldn't let me go!  I pushed her away and she just wouldn't stop!  She kept calling and calling and you and I were trying to make things right!  She started stalking you, sweetheart.  Do you even know?"

He looked at Tom.  "Did you?  Did you even know?  She found out about the two of you," he spat, turning back to me.  "She'd drive past Curly's and see you there with him.  At the park, here at his house!  In fucking Lake Geneva!"

I slowly raised my hands, wishing he'd calm down.  Keep him calm, wait for the police to arrive.  Anger him just enough and Tom could get hurt even more than he already was.

"Because of her, I started questioning the baby.  I refused to believe any of it, I wanted to trust you.  I found a box of photographs in the attic, in a box with a god damn lock on it.  Pictures of the two of you, in MY house!"

"Jack," I cleared my throat, stepping toward him.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the fire poker hanging on the side of the fireplace.  If Jack would settle down a bit, if he'd just look away long enough, there was a good chance I could reach it.

"Chrissy, we could be so happy, if you'd just listen to me, if you'd just forget him and be my wife again."

"But you hit me, Jack.  You're mean and so angry when you don't get your way."

"But I was changing!"

"Before the accident or after?"

He closed his mouth, exhaling sharply through his nose.  

"Right."

"It was the wake up call I needed, Chrissy."

At that very moment I hated him more than I thought was possible.  It took my own near death experience for him to appreciate my life, my worth.

"I hate you," I said, softly at first.  

"Chrissy," Jack cocked his head to the side, his eyes warning me.

I didn't care.  "I hate you," I said with more clarity, enunciating each word.

As quickly as I could, I heaved myself toward the fireplace.  Tom pushed himself to standing position again, this time throwing himself forward, tackling Jack.  Before I could snatch the fire poker, a shot rang out and I cried out, wrapping my fingers around the wrought iron stick.

I turned, seeing the gun clattering across the floor.  Tom had knocked Jack on his back.  Jack pushed him off, kicking him in the side before he scrambled toward the gun.  

I lifted the poker high, bringing it down hard onto his shoulder before he could reach it.  Jack yelled, his arm springing back, away from the gun.  I hit him again, this time in the back and he growled, pushing himself up.  

He swung his arm back toward me, making contact with my shin.  I stumbled over his arm, dropping my weapon.  It clanged loudly against the floor.  I fell to the ground and clambered for the gun as Jack dug his fingers into my ankle, pulling me back.  

Tom struggled to tear the tape from his wrists, desperate to help, to stop Jack.

I kicked my feet, my arms flailing for the gun.  My foot hit Jack in the face and he released me.  I lurched forward, slamming my hand down over the gun, picking it up.  I rolled quickly to my back just as Jack stood, ready to launch himself onto me.

"Chrissy," he coughed, blinking hard with his palms up. 

Keeping the gun on him, I stood, slowly.  I wasn't sure if I'd ever fired a gun before but I was more than ready to find out.

Tom was able to push the tape away from his mouth and used his teeth to rip through the tape which bound his hands together.  I didn't wait for him.

I couldn't wait for him.  I didn't need saving.  

I took a step toward Jack and Jack's shoulders dropped.  His lips pressed together into a thin, grim line.

"Don't look so sad, Jack.  You're getting what you wanted."  I fired a shot into his chest, the recoil jolting my arm.

Jack stumbled back, his jaw dropping.  He glanced down and clutched his chest, blood spilling through his fingers as his heart pumped rapidly.  His eyes shot back up to mine as he lost his balance and fell to his knees, catching himself with his hands before pushing himself back to his haunches.

I steadied the gun.  "Till death do us part," I scowled through my teeth, pulling the trigger once again.


	22. Chapter 22

FOUR MONTHS LATER

The scent of coffee roused me from a deep sleep. Only then did I notice Sammy's wet nose pressing against my face. I snickered as I peered though my lashes at his snoring and adorable face. Rolling over, I reached for Tom, finding his spot in our bed vacant. 

I ran my hand over the sheets, his spot still warm. I stretched, my joints aching from sleeping in the same position all night. Sammy groaned and licked my cheek before jumping off the bed, stretching out his own limbs before shaking the sleep from his body. He barked once and then ran from the room.

I didn't want to get up, the bed was so perfectly comfortable, but the coffee smelled so good. I sat up and climbed out of bed, gathering my hair up and tying it back into a high ponytail. Quickly, in the master bathroom, I brushed my teeth out of habit. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tip-toed my way downstairs, Sammy meeting me at the bottom, tail happily whipping back and forth.

Tom was in the kitchen, leaning over the sink with a mug of tea in his hands. The window over the sink was open and the smells and sounds of the lake wafted in, matching the warmth of the morning sun. The trickle of the coffee machine stopped, and I smiled, loving that Tom always made me a pot every morning, even though he was a loyal tea drinker.

I stopped and leaned against the entryway of the kitchen, staring at him affectionately. He was deep in thought, sipping his tea cautiously. I smiled and my eyes drifted to the kitchen table nearby, the morning paper spread open. One headline caught my attention immediately.

**Police Baffled, Still Seeking Missing Woman**

My eyes returned to Tom and I went to him, lovingly wrapping my arms around his torso, resting my head against his back. He grunted with affection and placed a hand over mine.

"Good morning," he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep. 

"Morning. You're up early."

It was Sunday and we had no where to be but tangled together beneath the bedsheets.

"I couldn't sleep anymore," he placed his mug down and turned in my arms, placing his hands on my lower back, dangerously close to the start of the curve of my behind. 

Pressing up on my toes, I planted a kiss to his perfect mouth. He squeezed me and I felt his cock twitch as I pressed against him. He smiled, knowing I'd felt it and I laughed as he trailed his lips to my jaw, kissing his way to my neck.

Sammy interrupted us, nudging Tom in the leg with his nose, groaning. 

I smirked at the deflated grunt Tom made as he skimmed his teeth across my earlobe. Shivering, I giggled and pushed away. "Sampson requires a walk. I'll take him." I turned to grab his lead off the hook by the kitchen door, but Tom grabbed my hand.

"Not in that," he trailed his eyes down my length, reminding me I was wearing nothing but an oversized baggy tee and panties.

I smirked. "Good thing the neighbors can't see into our backyard."

"The gate is closed, just let him run around on his own and you can stay right here in my arms."

Sammy whined, desperate to go out. He bounced side to side with his front paws and I opened the door, letting him run past me. I closed the door and returned to my fiancé, tugging him to me by the neck of his shirt.

Our lips collided and his hands instantly found their way beneath my shirt, holding onto my waist before hungrily sliding down to my hips, his fingers slipping beneath the elastic band of my panties. He cupped my ass in his hands, squeezing me once. 

I wrapped my hands around the base of his neck, keeping my lips on his, our tongues stroking and dancing together. Bringing one hand down, I lazily stroked his side, smiling through our kisses as he flinched from the ticklish touch. I brought my hand between us, cupping his erection, massaging it.

Tom moaned into my mouth and his hands squeezed me again before he pulled his lips from mine. "Get the fuck upstairs. Now."

 

•••

 

Tom drifted into a nap as I was snuggled into the nook of his arm. I realized he had fallen asleep as his chest rose steadily beneath my hand.

I carefully slipped out of bed, and lightly kissed his plush lips. I tugged on some shorts and pulled on a tank top, not worrying about a bra. 

In the kitchen, I finally poured myself a cup of coffee and grabbed the paper on the table, taking both outside to the backyard. Sammy was resting under a tree and his tail thumped against the ground heavily once he saw I had joined him. 

He stood and stretched before trotting over to my side. I sat down on the steps of the back deck and placed my mug next to me before scratching the top of his head.

I shook the paper out and placed it over my lap, crossing my feet at the ankles. The sun was higher in the sky, and there were hardly any clouds. Over the top of the fence, about a hundred yards away, I could see the beach was filled with the usual suspects; mothers with their little ones building sand castles, a few young college students gossiping as they waded through the shallows, and one man snoozing in a lawn chair with a rather large beer gut. 

I was happy we had moved out here. There were too many bad memories associated with home, or where home used to be. Lake Geneva was now our home. 

After I had shot Jack, Tom wrapped his arms around me from behind, taking the gun from my hands. I'd run out of bullets anyway, but that didn't stop me from trying to shoot Jack again. Sammy came charging downstairs, tail wagging. He'd been shut in the bathroom in Tom's room but he must have somehow gotten the door to open.

I had quickly put my clothes back on, shaking so hard, I wasn't sure I'd ever stop. Tom put an arm around me and the three of us step outside for air and to wait for the police. 

My mind had quieted. For once I didn't have a million thoughts bouncing around. Memories weren't trying to break through, and despite the fact that our lives were hanging by a thread mere minutes before, I felt free. 

Tom didn't talk. He didn't baby me or try to tell me everything was going to be okay. I'm not sure he knew what to say exactly. But his silence was much appreciated. I was afraid if he spoke to me, all my emotions would spill out, never-ending.

I didn't allow myself to think about the baby, about the resurfaced memories of being pregnant. I focused on Sammy's head, stroking his golden mane, the sensation soothing. It wasn't until the flashing red and blue lights of the first responders pulled up to the house that I realized I had blood on my hands.

"Sammy's hurt," I gasped as I had dropped to my knees to inspect him. He wasn't acting hurt. I lifted his ears, made him stand and checked his limbs, his belly, everywhere.

There was blood on the back of his head, just above his left ear, but no wound.

Everything else happened so fast, and yet it felt like it took days for us to finally get out of there, for the police to take us to the station and take our statements. As we waited on the front lawn, questioned by Officer Dane, (thankfully not a friend of Jack's), the paramedics removed Jack's body and drove off with him. I panicked, yelling that they needed to come back, there was still another body to be taken.

Another officer from inside the house joined us on the lawn, trying to make sense of my hysterics. 

"Grace, Jack shot her! She's upstairs, I've already gone over this!"

"Ma'am, there was no one else, just your husband."

I took a step back, adorning an incredulous smile, scoffing. They had to be joking. A sick joke. I pushed past the officers, even as they tried to stop me. 

Running upstairs, I returned to Tom's room to find no one. No body. Not even the blood was left behind, for the comforter was missing as well as Grace's body. 

Tom couldn't even vouch for me, he couldn't confirm that Grace had been there because he had never seen her. I had felt like I was going crazy. The only proof I had was on the fur of Sampson and my fingers, having stroked him.

Later on, it had been verified that the blood samples taken had belonged to Grace; I wasn't going crazy. 

I couldn't stay there anymore. Not in that town. Officer Dane had been an angel, finding me a place to stay a few towns over. I didn't speak to Tom again for weeks, nearly a month and a half. He had called everyday for two weeks until he finally figured out where I was staying.

Hunting me down, he fell to my feet when I opened the door to the motel room. He had begged for my forgiveness, unnecessarily so. I didn't hate him. I never did and never could. 

Doctor Jackson, my psychologist whom Officer Dane set me up with, helped me to realize why Tom never said anything about our baby. I couldn't imagine the pain he'd been suffering, unable to share it with me, the weight of it all. 

After a night of making love and crying in each other's arms, he'd let me know he was moving. He'd bought a house in Lake Geneva along the beach, not far from the Lazy Cloud Bed and Breakfast. 

"When you're ready, I'll be there. You have a home, when you're ready." He'd tucked my hair behind my ears, kissing my forehead. I watched as he drove off. 

A few weeks later, after a memory resurfaced during a session with Dr. Jackson, a simple memory of Tom wrestling with Sammy in the backyard, I'd had enough. While I'd been trying to put the pieces of myself back together, shattered as I was, I knew that one piece would always be walking around on it's own, waiting for me to accept it as the missing part of me.

This time I had hunted down Tom and a month later he proposed.

I sighed, and held the paper still, the wind picking up, threatening to blow it off my lap. 

Grace's body was never found. Everything in her home was left as it was, all her clothing, her belongings, everything. She simply disappeared. I could never figure out why and the article didn't shed much light, it simply confirmed that she still hadn't been found.

I felt bad for Grace. Knowing who Jack was, who he had been, it wasn't a stretch to think that perhaps she too had been a victim to his manipulation and promises. I hoped that wherever she was, that she would find peace. Maybe it was better if the police never found her. 

I folded the paper back up and looked at Sammy. He'd been outside long enough. He rose to all fours immediately as I stood with my mug and followed closely as I returned to the house.

He lapped up his entire bowl of water and I refilled it, kneeling down to hug him. Maybe someday Tom and I would try for another baby, but for now, Sammy was perfect.

Leisurely I coasted through the kitchen and made my way back to the stairs, desiring to snuggle back in next to the handsome man in my bed. As I passed the front door, something caught my eye through the curtain. I tugged it back a little and held my breath, focusing on the car parked in the street.

I'd seen that same car before, passing in front of my old house, the one I shared with Jack. I stepped closer to the window, noticing a figure behind the wheel.

Before I could make them out, they took off, driving away quickly. I looked down to find Sampson at my feet, waiting patiently for me to open the front door so he could bolt. I smirked and shook my head.

"Nope, we're staying in, bud. Let's go see daddy."

As I turned towards the stairs, he hustled up before me. I climbed the stairs hoping he wouldn't wake Tom, but if he did, that was okay too. We could lock him out and make love again.

I smiled as I entered the bedroom. Sammy had, as I suspected he would, jumped into the bed, stealing my spot. Tom, as I also suspected he would, had his arms around the canine, rubbing his belly.

"Hey you," he said softly once he saw me. 

I padded across the room and Tom told Sammy to get off the bed. I climbed back in, Tom wrapping his arms around me, planting a kiss to my temple. 

"Everything okay?" He murmured against me, kissing again.

I relaxed and faced him. "Perfect."

 

THE END


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